

















































































♦ 




















































































OUTDOORLAND 

By 

CORA" MILEY 


HARLOW PUBLISHING COMPANY 
OKLAHOMA CITY, OKLAHOMA 
1932 




Copyright 1932, by 
Harlow Publishing Company, 
Oklahoma City 



JA 


p >> i 


OQ 


1932 


©CIA 47283 


CONTENTS 


Page 


Outdoorland _ 1 

Chapter I. The Story of the Corn Plant 7 
Chapter II. The History of Our Veg¬ 
etables _ 12 

Chapter III. The Friendly Trees_ 28 

Chapter IV. Stories from a Garden_ 49 

Chapter V. Insect Workers and Their 

Odd Works_ 76 

Chapter VI. The Blind Historian of 

Ants and Bees_ 86 

Chapter VII. The Curious Story of Silk 98 
Chapter VIII. Luck, A Champion Bug- 

Catcher _105 

Chapter IX. The Story of Molly Cotton¬ 
tail _- 112 

Chapter X. Nutcracker, The Squirrel, 

and Danny, the Prairie Dog 128 
Chapter XI. The Champion Sleepers of 

Animaldom -137 

Chapter XII. A Builder of Dams-145 

Chapter XIII. Song Birds and Secrets — 153 
















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Outdoorland 


Each member of the family was in a hurry 
that early morning in summer. Father was has¬ 
tily wiping dust from the car cushions; Mother 
was pulling on her gloves rapidly as she gave 
some last instructions to Katie who sometimes 
helped her with the work; William was looking 
everywhere but in the right place for his cap. 
Mabel, who had on her new blue dress and hat, 
was calling impatiently from the walk outside, 
“Come on, William! Hurry up, Mother, or we’ll 
be late.” 

Uncle Tom was the cause of all the excite¬ 
ment. He was coming on the ten o’clock train. 
Uncle Tom was a naturalist. It had been three 
years since he had been to the big, white farm 
house for a visit. All that time he had been 
away off in the Rocky Mountains, finding un¬ 
usual specimens for the big museums in the 
East and learning more and more about nature 
and writing what he found in stories for the 
magazines. 

Now he was coming home for a whole sum- 
(i) 


2 


OUTDOORLAND 


mer’s rest. Father said that it would be nice to 
have the “good-for-nothing” at home again. Of 
course Father did not mean that Uncle Tom was 
good for nothing. It was just Father’s way to 
call some one he loved “a good-for-nothing.” 
Mother said, “Tom is such a dear boy. I am so 
glad nothing happened to him away off in the 
Rockies.” Uncle Tom was Mother’s youngest 
brother. She did not think of him as a man thir¬ 
ty-five years old but she thought of him as a 
boy but little older than William. 

William and Mabel said, “What great fun it 
will be to have Uncle Tom here. He will play 
with us like a young friend and he will tell us 
such wonderful stories about the trees, the birds, 
the flowers and all the things In the fields and 
woods.” 

It was several miles from the farm to the rail¬ 
road station and it seemed to the children that 
even though Father was driving at the speed of 
twenty-five miles an hour in the car, they would 
never reach the station. And after they had 
come to the low red station and had parked the 
car close between two other cars, it seemed a 
long time until the train came in puffing and 
snorting and rolled to a stop. Uncle Tom came 





























































































































































4 


OUTDOORLAND 


off it as brown as a nut, his fine teeth flashing 
and his eyes twinkling. He hugged and kissed 
Mother a half dozen times as though he never 
could stop. He shook hands with Father. 

“Hello, Old Topper! I’m sure glad to see you," 
said Uncle Tom. 

And then, to their surprise, Uncle Tom looked 
at the children as if they were strangers. 

“Who is this young couple you have with you? 
Introduce me, please.” 

“No? It can’t be true,” Uncle Tom said, pre¬ 
tending he could not believe they had grown so 
much. He made them turn around and around 
to see how large they were. He took their faces 
in his hands, turn about, and held them to a bet¬ 
ter light to see whom they resembled. He 
slapped William on the back just as he had done 
Father. He gave Mabel an extra kiss and then 
said, as he picked up his queer old bags, “Let’s 
hurry. I’m just aching to see the dear old 
place once more.” 

“Have you any new stories, Uncle Tom?” 
William asked before they reached the car. 

“Oh, William,” Mother said. “Do let Uncle 
Tom rest a little before you begin to tease him 
to tell you stories.” 


OUTOORLAND 


5 


“Let the youngster be, Belle,” Uncle Tom re¬ 
plied. “He’s speaking right up for what he 
wants. That is a good idea. I believe I have 
a number of new stories and some old ones you 
haven’t heard, Bill. I should, shouldn’t I? A 
fellow can learn much in three years. No, there 
is no doubt that I have several stories tucked 
away in my old noodle that you haven’t heard. 
Some time later in the day I’ll tell you some of 
them.” 

Noon-day dinner was ready when they 
reached home. Katie had cooked a splendid 
dinner of fried chicken, corn, beans, peas, Irish 
potatoes, tomatoes, cabbage and had frozen a 
freezer of ice cream. 

“My, but it is good to see these vegetables,” 
Uncle Tom said. “It is not hard to find chicken 
and ice cream at some of the places I’ve been, 
but I haven’t had any good fresh vegetables 
cooked this way since I left home. What an 
historic group you have today!” 

“Historic?” asked William who loved to read 
about Sir Francis Drake and Captain Kidd. 

“Yes. Every vegetable on this table has a 
history. Many of them come from old, old fam¬ 
ilies. Don’t you know the story of how the corn 


6 


OUTDOORLAND 


came to the Indians? That is an American 
legend. You should know it.” 

“No, Uncle Tom, we do not know it. How did 
the corn come to the Indians?” William asked, 
unfolding his napkin and arranging it in his 
lap. 

“It’s a good story,” said Uncle Tom, picking 
up his knife and fork. “Fll tell it to you while 
I eat. This is not altogether polite, but I’m 
so hungry I can’t wait.” 





I 

THE STORY OF THE CORN PLANT 

“Once long ago, before the white man came 
to America, there was a terrible famine among 
the Indians. As there was no rain at all in the 
spring and summer, the vegetation died. The 
hot summer was followed by a very cold winter. 
There was not any game because those wild ani¬ 
mals that had not starved to death had gone 
to another climate where there was vegetation. 
It was a most distressing time for the Indians. 
They were almost starving. One day, when 
the old men of the tribe had been meeting in 
council to offer up prayers to the Great Spirit 
for aid, a beautiful golden bird flew over the 
camp and lit not far from the wigwams. 

“The young braves raised their arrows at once 
to shoot it. Here was the answer to their 
prayers they thought. But the old men of 
the tribe said, ‘Wait! This is like no bird we 
have ever seen before. It is large like the eagle 
but it does not seem to be fierce like that great 
bird. Look at the golden color of this one. It 


(7) 















































The Story of the Corn Plant 9 

is as bright as the sun. Perhaps the bird is 
sent from the Great Spirit. Let us wait and 
see what happens.’ 

“Among the Indians the old men of the tribe 
are always obeyed. The young braves lowered 
their arrows and did not kill the beautiful 
golden bird. They brought it food and water 
instead. For three days the strange bird sat 
quietly where it had at first rested from its 
flight. Then it raised its beautiful wings, flapped 
them once or twice in the bright sunshine and 
flew away 

“After a week had passed there sprang up 
where the bird had rested a strange new plant. 
It had long graceful leaves and a silken plume 
like an Indian’s head-dress. Behind the leaves 
grew the seed which were fastened together in 
a covering shaped like an Indian’s quiver. 

“The Indians were greatly puzzled as they 
watched the plant grow. By and by, when 
the grain had ripened and they found it good 
for food, they rejoiced greatly and celebrated 
with a festival of thanksgiving. They saved 
much of the seed from it and planted it year 
after year. In time there was enough for all 
the tribes and they did not have to depend on 


10 


OUTDOORLAND 


the wild grasses and vegetables of the forests 
for green food. When Columbus came to Amer¬ 
ica he found the Indians eating corn, for that 
was the plant the golden bird had brought. 
When he returned to Spain Columbus carried 
some of the seed with him and the white men 
soon learned how to plant and harvest it. 

“Now corn is, perhaps, our most valuable food. 
More than twenty-eight hundred million bushels 
of it are raised in America each year. What 
will the corn crop in a good season bring here 
in this country, Ben?” asked Uncle Tom, turn¬ 
ing to Father. 

“About twenty-one hundred million dollars,” 
Father replied. 

“And the fine thing about corn,” Uncle Tom 
continued, “is that you can use all of it. The 
kernels, of course, are used for food for fowls, 
cattle and man. Bread is made from the ripened 
grain; stalks and leaves are eaten by the cattle. 

“Down in South America they make mat¬ 
tresses from the husks and baskets and paper 
from the stalks. Varnish, gun cotton and high 
explosives are made from the pith of the stalk. 
The pith is also used to pack between the hull 
and armor of war-vessels to keep them from 


The Story of the Corn Plant 11 

sinking if pierced by a shell. Thread is some¬ 
times made from the fibres of the corn leaves. 
That golden bird did us a good turn by bringing 
us the corn plant, didn’t it, Mabel?” asked 
Uncle Tom smiling at her across the table. 

“It certainly did,” she replied. “Uncle Tom, 
is there a history of the peas? I like them best 
of all the vegetables.” 

“Now, Mabel, Uncle Tom is tired,” Mother 
began. Before she could finish Uncle Tom 
said, “I’ll tell Mabel this one, Belle, and then 
we shall wait until late this evening before we 
have another story. If you will go with me then 
down to the fish-pond, I’ll tell you the story of 
every vegetable on this table. I’m glad you asked 
for the story of the peas, Mabel. It is a story 
I like and as it is very short, we can get through 
with it before the ice cream is brought in.” 


II 

THE HISTORY OF OUR VEGETABLES 

“The story I know about the pea concerns two 
members of that family, the garden pea and 
the sweet pea. The peas belong to the Pulse 
family which is a very old and very large one. 
AH the members of this family carry their 
seeds in a pod. Many, many plants as well as 
some trees belong to the Pulse family. No one 
knows just where old great-grandfather Pulse 
came from. Some say he was in the Garden of 
Eden with Adam and Eve. No one is certain, 
however, whether he was a tree, a shrub or a 
vine in those days. We only know that some¬ 
where away off in Asia he began his large fam¬ 
ily. 

“Long after Adam and Eve had disobeyed 
God and the Garden of Eden was reduced to dis¬ 
order and ruin, these two Pulse cousins, wanting 
to travel, started west. Both were vines. One 
legend says that they were shrubs before this 
time and that they assumed the shape of the 
vine in order that they might travel faster. The 
( 12 ) 


The History of Our Vegetables 


13 


way of their journeying was west and the time 
summer. In the winter they rested and slept. 

“One of the Pulse cousins was a fine fellow 
with gay flowers of wonderful perfume. He 
was loved for his fine appearance and his de¬ 
lightful fragrance. The other cousin was not 
beautiful nor did his flowers smell as swee*b 
but he was kind and helpful. He gave food to 
the people as he passed along. 

“In time these two spread all over Europe 
and both became popular, but since people are 
lazy, even in speech, they were not called the 
Pulse cousins but the P’s. And at last one be¬ 
came known as the sweet pea and the other 
as the garden pea.” 

“Was not that a fine story?” Mother asked 
when Uncle Tom had finished. 

“Oh, yes indeed!” Mabel said delightedly as 
she clapped her hands and began to ask for 
more. 

“Now, you children let Uncle Tom talk to 
Mother and me awhile,” Father interrupted. 
“He has told you he will go down to the fish¬ 
pond with you this evening, so be patient until 
then.” 

“Yes, I must have a visit with Father and 


14 


OUTDOORLAND 


Mother and I must write some business letters. 
I should also like a nap on the couch in the 
study. I shall be ready for you, however, at 
the time I promised, ; ” Uncle Tom said, blowing 
Mabel a kiss from his finger tips. 

The sun was setting among beautiful rose 
and blue clouds when Uncle Tom, William and 
Mabel wandered down to the fish-pond. Walk¬ 
ing one behind the other along the shady paths 
the cows were coming home from the pasture 
to be milked. The soft air was full of the per¬ 
fume of flowers. It was the loveliest time of 
all the day. 

“Now, let us see,” Uncle Tom said, seating 
himself on the rustic bench under the willow 
trees. “Just what vegetables did we have for 
dinner today?” 

“Irish potatoes,” said William, remembering 
his favorite dish. 

“Beans!” cried Mabel who liked that vege¬ 
table almost as well as she did peas. 

“Ladies first, Bill,” Uncle Tom said politely. 
He always remembered his good manners. 

“Speaking of beans recalls something to my 
mind. While I was resting this afternoon, I 
heard you two arguing a question. Bill said 


The History of Our Vegetables 15 

to Mabel, ‘You don't know beans.' You did not 
reply directly to him so I suppose that you 
really did not know anything about this inter¬ 
esting vegetable. But perhaps I was mistaken. 
Do you, by any chance, know something about 
the history of the bean?" 

“All I know is that they are good to eat. When 
they are green we eat them shells and all. When 
they are dry we eat the seeds only," Mabel 
answered. 

“What do you know about them, Bill. Much 
more than that I am sure or you would not have 
said what you did to Mabel," said Uncle Tom 
half laughing. 

“I know that Father plants them in the fields 
to make the soil more fertile. But, Uncle Tom, 
‘you don't know beans' is just a saying. It 
means you do not know much about anything," 
safd William, a little ashamed. 

“Oh, I see! I see! Then you admit that you 
know nothing of Mr. Bean either," Uncle Tom 
said, his eyes twinkling merrily. “Well, there is 
much to know about him. His is such a long 
story that I can't begin to do anything but give 
you an idea about him. If some one would 
write the history of his family and the part it 


16 


OUTDOORLAND 


has played in the story of man it would make 
a very large book. The bean, as well as the pea, 
belongs to the Pulse family. There are one hun¬ 
dred and fifty members of the bean branch of 
the Pulse family so you see that, it is impossible 
to mention them all. 

“The bean originated, we suppose, along the 
shores of the Caspian Sea. Eight hundred 
years before the birth of Christ, the famous 
poet, Homer, mentions the bean in his poems. 
All the years since it has furnished food for 
man in his days of poverty and struggle as well 
as in the days of wealth and idleness. 

“In the ancient days of Greece the bean played 
a leading part in history. It was once used to 
elect the political officials. Instead of voting 
on paper as men do now, the people voted by 
dropping a bean into the helmet of the man they 
wished to elect to an office of the government. 

“In France, Germany and England there was 
even a bean king. The legend says that on the 
evening of the twelfth day after the New Year 
companies of people came together for the pur¬ 
pose of having a good time. A huge cake with 
a bean in it was baked for the party. When the 
company had assembled, the cake was divided 




















18 


Gutdoorland 


into portions, each person receiving one por¬ 
tion. Whoever received the piece of cake with 
the bean in it became king of the company for 
the next year. As soon as the cake had been 
cut and the finder of the bean announced, the 
new king held a play court ‘when all of the 
guests at the party came up and bowed down 
before him. The next year, on Twelfth Night, 
this king gave a party and a new king was 
chosen by means of the bean cake. It was all 
in fun but it became a custom of the people and 
is recorded in the history of the times. 

“There is another story, that of Jack and the 
Bean stalk, which, of course, you know. It is 
such an old story and has been told and re-told 
so many times that it has become a part of our 
literature. Thus you see the bean is part of 
history and part of literature. 

“Our beans of today do not grow so tall as 
that one of Jack’s did but they are very useful 
plants. People all over the world eat the pods 
and the seeds. Cattle and horses eat the vines 
and leaves. Medicine is sometimes made from 
the roots. A study of the different kinds of 
beans and how they are cooked in other coun¬ 
tries would be an interesting subject. Beans 


The History of Our Vegetables 19 

have fine food value. They are sometimes used 
in the place of meat. We shall learn about that 
some day. Now you say you want to hear the 
story of the potato, Bill?” Uncle Tom asked 
as he skimmed a little pebble over the smooth 
surface of the fish-pond. 

Then without waiting for a reply he began: 
“The story of the Irish Potato is a very nice 
one. The potato came by its first name 
through a service it did for the Irish people. In 
a way the potato was a missionary for it saved 
a people. The last name, potato, was given to 
it on account of its similarity to another vege¬ 
table which was not even of the same family 
that it was. Because the most important part 
of the Irish potato, the tuber, grew underground 
like the batata, it was called the batata also. 
In time someone misunderstood and, instead of 
calling them batatas, called them potatoes. 

“It was long years afterward before the first 
name Irish was added. Then, as the potato had 
become well known, the batata’s name was 
changed to potato also. In order to tell the two 
apart the batata was called the sweet potato. 

“The Irish potato was first found in South 
America. It lived there along the slopes of 


20 


OUTDOORLAND 


the bleak Andes Mountains. There the Span¬ 
iards, hunting madly for gold in those early 
days of discovery and exploration, found it and 
because they did not find much gold when they 
returned to Spain, they carried this new veg¬ 
etable, the American batata, with them to that 
good friend of Columbus, Queen Isabella. This 
lovely lady thought the batatas very queer and 
planted them in her gardens so that all the 
friends at court might see them growing and 
wonder at them. 

“Other of the Spaniards in the New World 
carried some of the batata seed to Virginia, 
From there it was that Sir Walter Raleigh car¬ 
ried the seed to Queen Elizabeth, of whom he 
was very fond. You will remember, children, 
that it was Sir Walter Raleigh who threw his 
handsome coat down in the mud of the street 
that the queen might pass over without getting 
her feet damp. Queen Elizabeth had gardeners 
plant the seed in the kitchen gardens. 

“The potato is a strange plant. The tubers, 
as you know, grow under the ground. They 
are the only part which can be eaten. The 
leaves and stems are bitter and slightly poison¬ 
ous. That is for their protection. If the 


The History of Our Vegetables 21 

leaves were good to eat the cattle would eat 
them and the best, part of the plant, the tubers, 
which cannot grow without the leaves, would 
die. Queen Elizabeth’s servants did not know 
anything about the potato. Therefore, when 
the plants were grown, they picked the leaves 
and stems, cooked them and served them to the 
queen. They were so bitter that Queen Eliza¬ 
beth ate only a very little of them but that little 
made her very ill. Consequently, Sir Walter 
Raleigh was called before the court to answer 
the charge of having tried to poison the queen. 
The charges were dismissed when he explained 
that only the tubers of the potato are good to 
eat and that the cook had made the mistake of 
cooking the wrong part of the vegetable. 

“But it is, as I have said before, due to its 
connection with the Irish people that the potato 
came into fame. In very early days there were 
dreadful famines in Ireland when great num¬ 
bers of people starved to death. These famines 
were so terrible that all the kind people in the 
world tried to think of a food which could be 
planted to save the Irish through the times 
when there was no other sort of food for them. 

“Some one finally suggested that the people 


22 


OUTDOORLAND 


of Ireland plant potatoes. It was well known 
that the potato grew easily and profusely. It 
seemed worth while to try to make it live and 
thrive in Ireland even though all other food 
plants were being killed. 

“As an experiment, potatoes from the seed 
brought over to Queen Elizabeth by Sir Walter 
Raleigh and to Queen Isabella by the greedy 
Spaniards were planted in Ireland. Just as the 
wise ones had believed and the people had hoped, 
when the famine came and all the other plants 
died, the potato lived and saved the lives of the 
Irish people. To show you how important the 
potato is to the Irish, I will tell you that in 
1846 a blight attacked the potato in Ireland and 
killed it out. As a result, a million people died 
from lack of food. 

“In France the potato is called ‘Apple of 
Earth.’ In Germany it is known as the ‘Earth 
Apple’.” 

“The potato is historic, isn’t it, Uncle Tom? 
Why, there are dates in its life! The first Eng¬ 
lishman came over to the New World in 1607. 
Didn’t you say the time of the blight was in 
1846? I love history, don’t you?” William 


The History of Our Vegetables 23 

asked, edging a little closer t,o his uncle on the 
bench. 

“Now, William, don’t get Uncle Tom off the 
subject. We had cabbage and tomatoes for din¬ 
ner and Uncle Tom promised to tell us about 
them,” said Mabel who was never satisfied with 
less than all and who never forgot a promise. 

“Mabel is right, William. We did have cabbage 
and tomatoes for dinner and as they are my 
favorite vegetables when served as your mother 
gives them to us, I want to tell you something 
abouc them. We must hurry, however, because 
Father will be through feeding the horses in 
a short while and will be blowing the hunting 
horn to call us in to supper. I’ll tell you about 
the cabbage first. 

“It is a very old vegetable. No one knows 
where it first grew. The earliest record we 
have of it comes from the Greeks who have an 
old legend concerning its origin. These Greeks 
of olden times had many legends about their 
heroes. The stories about such heroes were 
told from father to son through hundreds of 
years. Each time the story was told some little 
bit was added until, after a while, it was alto¬ 
gether different from what it was at the begin- 


24 


OUTDOORLAND 


ning. After a long time those Greek heroes 
were almost equal to the Greek gods in the minds 
of the people. The cabbage story is about both 
the Greek gods and the Greek heroes. 

“Dionysius was the Greek god of wine. When 
he was a small boy he played joyously through 
the woods and deep forests. During one of 
these rambles he ate some wild fruit which he 
found was cooling to his thirst. This fruit was 
the grape. Out of it he learned how to make 
a pleasant juice. He found that after he drank 
this juice he became gay and happy. He taught 
his companions how to make the juice and when 
they had drunk of it they became happy also 
and wandered through the forests shouting and 
singing. 

* “Dionysius, seeing that the wine had made 
those who drank it happy, gave it to mankind. 
With his followers he went about all over the 
earth planting the vine and teaching men to 
make wine. 

“But Lycurgus, the ruler of Thrace, a country 
in Greece, did not appreciate the work of Diony¬ 
sius. He thought, the juice of the grape bad 
for the people for he saw that after they drank 
the wine they gave up work altogether and 


The History of Our Vegetables 25 

went about singing and playing. Because he 
loved his subjects and wished them to leave off 
drinking wine and go to work again and be use¬ 
ful he went all over his country and destroyed 
the grape vines which Dionysius had planted. 

“It was a serious thing to interfere with what 
the gods had done. To punish Lycurgus for de¬ 
stroying the vines of Dionysius the gods bound 
him to a grape vine for life. And legend says 
that the tears of the poor unfortunate prince 
falling constantly on the ground as he wept 
despairingly for his lost liberty took root and 
came up as cabbage plants. From this old story 
came the belief that the cabbage plant will cure 
drunkenness. And there was a time when the 
lonians, a people of Greece, swore their sacred 
oaths upon a cabbage head. 

“There is another legend which says that 
fairies travel about through the air on cabbage 
stalks just as witches are supposed to ride 
broom sticks up and down and round about. 

“Cabbage grows wild in many countries in 
the old world. In England and Ireland the 
stems are sometimes three feet high. 

“Brussels Sprouts and cauliflower are of the 
same family.” Uncle Tom concluded. William 


26 


OUTDOORLAND 


and Mabel were very quiet when the story was 
finished. The idea of tear drops making cabbage 
was astonishing. 

“Do you believe that Greek story, Uncle Tom? 
Could a plant spring from tear drops really?” 
William asked. 

“Certainly not, Bill. The Greeks have many 
strange and impossible stories but they have 
been told so long and are so beautiful that they 
have become a part of our literature. We tell 
them because they are interesting, not because 
they are true.” 

“Tell about the tomato,” Mabel said impa¬ 
tiently. “You're forever getting off on some¬ 
thing else, William.” 

“There isn't a great deal to tell about the To¬ 
mato, dear, except plain facts. It is a very won¬ 
derful vegetable, having not only a fine flavor 
but also health-giving qualities. It is also a 
very popular vegetable. Hundreds of thousands 
of tons are canned every year. Almost every 
dish of food in Italy has a dash of tomato in 
it. Tomatoes are served in some form every day 
in the year to all kinds and classes of people. 
But this was not always true. It was not until 
the nineteenth century that people discovered 


The History of Our Vegetables 


27 


tomatoes were good to eat. Before that time they 
believed tomatoes were very poisonous. They 
were grown solely for beauty and called ‘Love 
Apples.’ This mistake was made because the 
tomato is cousin to the nightshade which is a 
very poisonous plant. 

“The tomato is an American plant and was 
growing wild on our shores when Columbus 
landed in 1592,” Uncle Tom said. 

“Why, Uncle Tom! You made a mistake. Col¬ 
umbus landed in 1492 not 1592. Don’t you re¬ 
member the verse: 

It was in fourteen ninety-two 
Columbus sailed the ocean blue? 

William said. 

“You’re right,” Uncle Tom replied laughing, 
“I wondered if you would catch me. You have 
a good memory. There’s the horn blowing for 
us. Let’s race to the house. The last one in must 
tell the next story!” 


Ill 

THE FRIENDLY TREES 


Mabel was sitting on the end of the bench 
nearest the path that led to the house when 
Uncle Tom gave the challenge for a race. Always 
quick to act, she whirled off the bench and 
started running up the path •immediately, as 
fast as her ten year legs would carry her. The 
bushes were so thick on either side that it was 
impossible to pass her. But little things like 
bushes could not hold back such a woodsman as 
Uncle Tom. He gave a leap and a dash, and 
was over and through them and running far 
ahead of her in a moment. 

It was no trick for William to catch up with 
Mabel. He was older and his legs were longer. 
But he could not pass her on the path without 
pushing her to one side. And that, of course, 
he would not do. So he made an attempt to 
leap over and through the bushes as Uncle 
Tom had done, but in jumping he caught his 
foot in a vine and fell violently to the ground. 
By the time he had righted himself and examined 


( 28 ) 


The Friendly Trees 


29 


his knee, which had struck a stone as he fell, the 
others were so far ahead of him that he thought 
it useless to try to catch up with them. Uncle 
Tom and Mabel had reached the farm house be¬ 
fore he came out of the wood lot. 

“You lost! You lost! You'll have to tell the 
next story/' Mabel said gleefully as he walked 
slowly up to the place where they were standing. 
She thought it something wonderful to beat 
William in a race. She had never done so be¬ 
fore. 

“What happened, Bill? Weren't you listening 
when I said let's race?" Uncle Tom asked kindly. 

“Yes, I heard you but just as I tried to pass 
Mabel I caught my foot in a vine and fell down 
and hurt my knee. By the time I could get up 
and start again, you were so far ahead of me 
that I could not catch you, so I didn't bother 
to run. And I don't mind telling a story. I 
know lots of them about Captain Kidd." 

“I was wondering, Bill, as you came up, what 
kind of a story you would choose to tell. I had 
an idea it would be about history. But I have 
a suggestion to make. Suppose we all tell nature 
stories this summer. I don't know many along 
other lines and I am too tired to learn any this 


30 


OUTDOORLAND 


summer. Besides I am collecting stories about 
nature to put into a book later on for boys and 
girls. By telling me them you know you can 
help me. Will you do this?” Uncle Tom asked. 

“But we do not know any nature stories, Uncle 
Tom,” William said. 

“That is one reason why I am asking you to 
do it. You will learn some. Your father’s 
study is full of books. Those simple ones on 
nature which I read as a boy are still there and 
your mother has bought some new ones on the 
same subjects. I examined them this afternoon. 
Have you not read them?” he asked. 

“No, we haven’t,” Mabel replied. “We meant 
to do so but they are not very interesting.” 

“I think you would find them interesting if 
you once began to read them. You will help 
me to collect these nature stories I feel sure.” 

“We will try, Uncle Tom,” they said together. 

“Now, Bill, you think the matter over and tell 
us in the morning at the breakfast table what 
subject in nature you are going to talk upon. 
Then Mabel and I will add something to the 
occasion,” Uncle Tom said. 

“Bill, have you decided yet what is to be the 
subject for your story?” Uncle Tom said as he 


The Friendly Trees 31 

poured the cream into his coffee at breakfast 
next morning. 

“I think Fll talk about trees,” William replied. 

“Fine! A splendid subject. Do you hear, 
Mabel? ‘Trees' is the subject!” 

“But, Uncle Tom, I don't know any stories 
about trees,” Mabel said. 

“Just do your best,” Uncle Tom said. “If you 
can do no more you can at least bring us a list 
of the trees about the place here and what 
they are used for. Suppose we meet tomorrow 
afternoon in the study. The best place to tell 
stories is where it is quiet. Go over your 
stories in your own mind, Bill, before we meet. 
They will go easier. Does four o'clock tomor¬ 
row afternoon suit you? All right, we'll meet 
there,” Uncle Tom said. 

It was nice and cool the next day at four 
o'clock in the study when Mabel, Uncle Tom 
and William came there to talk about trees. 
Uncle Tom lay down on the couch by the win¬ 
dow. 

“I'm lazy, and I can listen better when I'm 
lying down,” he said as he clasped his hands 
over his brown curls and stretched out his slim 
body. Mabel sat on a footstool near him. Bill 


32 


OUTDOORLAND 


pulled up the big arm chair and curled up in 
that. “Go ahead, Bill, you're the leader today. 
Mabel and I will follow," Uncle Tom said. 

“I am going to tell about some trees famous 
in history, Uncle Tom. I am going to tell about 
the Charter Oak, and the Penn Treaty Elm. 
IT1 begin with the Charter Oak. 

“When the first settlers came to Hartford, 
Connecticut many years ago, the Indians asked 
a favor of them. ‘Please do not cut down the 
great oak on the hill/ they said. Tt has served 
us a long time. When the leaves on it are the 
size of a mouse's ear, we know that it is time 
to plant our corn. Without this tree we should 
not know this/ 

“The settlers were glad to do what the In¬ 
dians asked for they thought the large oak very 
beautiful. 

“These settlers at Hartford were some of the 
people who had left the Massachusetts Bay 
Colony because they did not have freedom there 
as they expected to have. In spite of the fact 
that the Massachusetts Bay Colony claimed all 
the land in Connecticut the settlers at Hartford 
set up an independent government of their own. 
They did not have the consent of the Colony 


The Friendly Trees 


33 


or of the King, but they set it up anyway, and 
they lived peacefully under it for twenty years. 

“During this time, Charles the First, the king 
of the Mother Country, was beheaded. Oliver 
Cromwell, a plain man, took the throne and ruled 
over the people. When he died the people of Eng¬ 
land called Charles the Second back to the 
throne. He was the son of the King whose head 
had been cut off. Things were so unsettled in 
England that the people in Hartford were afraid 
many changes would now be made in the English 
colonies. They wondered and worried very much 
about what was going to happen. They decided 
to send someone to England to find out what 
was going to be done. They selected John 
Winthrop, Jr. who was then governor of the 
colony. John Winthrop’s father had been the 
friend of the King’s father and when Winthrop 
showed Charles the Second the ring his father 
had been given by the King’s father, the King 
gave him everything he wanted. He gave him 
a wonderful charter. More privileges and lib¬ 
erties were granted in it than had ever been 
given to any colony up to this time. The people 
were very proud of this charter. They lived 
under it in peace for twenty-five years longer. 


34 


OUTDOORLAND 


“At the end of this time, Charles the Second 
died and his younger brother, James the Second, 
came to the throne. He wished to put all of 
the colonies together under one name, the Do¬ 
minion of New England, and to have one royal 
governor for them all. To do this would de¬ 
stroy the charter government of Hartford which 
Charles the Second had given to this colony. 
The people of the colony were very much dis¬ 
turbed when they heard this news. 

“‘What shall we do? We do not want to give 
up our charter. We left the Massachusetts 
Colony because we could not get along with 
them, and we do not want to go in with them 
again/ they said. They talked and talked about 
this plan of the king’s but they could think 
of nothing to do to stop it. 

“And then one day Sir Edmund Andros, the 
governor chosen by King James, came to take 
possession of the colony. The people did not 
say anything, but they made up their minds then 
and there that they would not give up the char¬ 
ter if they could help it. 

“When evening came the new governor went 
to the Council house to meet the people and talk 
over the charter. When the meeting had been 


The Friendly Trees 


35 


called to order a man of the colony spoke to 
the governor for the people. He told of their 
hardships in this new place. He told how they 
had sent John Winthrop to get the charter. He 
told how they had prospered under it and how 
they hated to give it up. While he was talking 
all the candles in the council house went out. 
When they were relighted the charter was no¬ 
where to be found. The people looked all over 
the room for it but it was not there. It had 
absolutely disappeared. Someone said then 
that it was Hallowe’en. They said maybe the 
witches had taken it away. Some of the people 
believed this explanation. 

“Of course, since the charter was not there it 
could not be given to the governor. He did not 
make any great fuss about it. As he had al¬ 
ready taken over the rule of the colony a charter 
more or less did not matter to him. 

“The truth of the matter is that the people 
of the colony had planned beforehand to blow 
out the candles while the man was speaking. 
When they had done so two men seized the 
charter and passed it out to another who was 
waiting outside to take it and hide it. This man 
slipped the charter under his coat, ran up the 


36 


OUTDOORLAND 


hill and hid it in the hollow of that great oak 
tree which the Indians had loved and begged 
the settlers to spare. 

“How long it was kept there no one knows, 
but it was hidden away somewhere for two 
whole years. At the end of that time James 
the Second was driven from the throne and his 
daughter, Mary, and her husband, William, 
came to rule. All thought of putting the colo¬ 
nies under one governor came to an end. 

“The Judges decided then that as the Hart¬ 
ford charter had not been given up the people 
might just as well go on using it. So it was 
brought from its hiding place and used for a 
very long time. When Connecticut became a 
state it took its constitution from the old Hart¬ 
ford charter. 

“The old oak which they now call the Charter 
Oak lived one hundred and sixty years after it 
had been used for a hiding place for the charter. 
When it was finally blown down the people 
grieved very much. 

“A copy of the original charter is framed in 
wood from the Charter Oak, and hangs in the 
Connecticut state library. The Speaker’s chair 
of the State Senate is made from the branches 


The Friendly Trees 


37 


of the old tree. A part of the trunk is kept in 
the Historical Society of Connecticut and a 
marble slab marks the place where it once 
stood.” 

“Yes, the Charter Oak will be remembered as 
long as free government continues in America,” 
Uncle Tom said. “Oak trees are very interest¬ 
ing. They grow all over America and some¬ 
times live for hundreds of years. There are 
fifty different kinds of oak trees. Furniture 
is made from the wood and tannic acid, used in 
preparing leather, is made from the bark. The 
Indians used to cook and eat the acorns from 
the oak tree when food was scarce. Your char¬ 
ter oak story was splendid, Bill. Go ahead now 
and tell the one about William Penn.” 

“Under a spreading elm tree, on June 5, 1685, 
in what is now Pennsylvania, a most unusual 
meeting took place. It had been called by a 
white man who wanted to buy the land from the 
Indians. Before this time no one had thought 
of buying the lands from them. Lands in the 
New World had been given or sold to the settlers 
by the king of that country whose men had dis¬ 
covered it. 

“But William Penn, for this was the white 


38 


OUTDOORLAND 


man’s name, did not think this right. He had 
paid the king for the land long before he left 
England yet he felt the Indians should be paid 
also. Tor/ he said, ‘the Indians owned the land 
long before the white men knew it was here. It 
is theirs and we must pay them for it.’ 

“The Indians were so surprised at this offer 
of payment for their land that they came from 
far and near to the meeting. There were old 
men and young men. Some wore the dress of 
a chief. Others had only paint on their naked 
bodies. All carried the weapons of war. 

“William Penn had only a few men with him. 
They carried no weapons. And when the In¬ 
dians saw that the white men had no weapons 
they laid theirs aside. 

“When all the company had come close to¬ 
gether the Indians sat down in small groups 
or half moon circles with their chief in the 
center of each group. These small half circles 
formed a large circle where William Penn and 
his men stood. When they were all ready the 
oldest Indian gave a sign to begin. 

“William Penn rose and told them his plans. 
His eyes were so friendly and his manner so 
polite that the Indians were much pleased. 


The Friendly Trees 


39 


When he told them he wanted peace with them 
they arose and shook his hand in friendship. 
This is the most famous of all the treaties made 
with the Indians because it is the only one that 
was never broken by the white man. 

“Everywhere else the colonists treated the 
Indians unjustly. When the Indians were mis¬ 
treated they were cruel and dangerous and the 
settlers lived in fear of their lives. But they 
did not harm the people of Pennsylvania. Towns 
were laid out in the wilderness and men settled 
lonely farms and the Indians never harmed 
them in either place. 

“The kind treatment of William Penn was 
remembered by those Indians who met with him 
as long as they lived. They had no written 
language as we have. They recorded their 
treaties in pictures made from shells on buck¬ 
skin belts. Each part of the treaty with William 
Penn was made on a separate belt. Every 
year for a long, long time the Indians came to 
the old tree and laid their belts down and re¬ 
peated the kind words of William Penn. 

“In after years the tree was known as the 
Penn Treaty Elm. It lived to be very old but 
a severe wind blew it down in 1810. When the 


40 


OUTDOORLAND 


people gathered around it they found that new 
shoots were springing up around the roots. So 
they planted one of these in the very place 
where the old elm had stood. Then they planted 
one on the grounds of the Pennsylvania hospital 
and sent some back to the old home of William 
Penn’s people in England. All of these trees 
are growing in these places.” 

“And there is no doubt but that many children 
of old Mother Penn Treaty Elm are scattered 
about,” Uncle Tom said as he clapped his hands 
at William’s story, “for the seeds of elm trees 
have wings. When they are loosened from the 
tree by the wind they fly about as little birds 
do before they settle rdown in the soft earth 
to make another elm tree. Of course, they do 
not fly of themselves but are kept aloft in the 
air by the wind but they seem to fly and many 
times they are carried a long way from the 
mother tree before they sink down to earth. 
Many other trees and plants have winged seeds. 
I have enjoyed your historical stories very 
much, Bill. There are many other trees that 
have a place in history. There is the elm in 
Cambridge, Mass., where Washington took 
command of the Continental Army. And you 


The Friendly Trees 41 

remember, of course, that there was one certain 
tree in the little French village of Domremy 
under which Joan of Arc used to go and sit 
to hear her voices. 

“The Druids, the priests of ancient England, 
believed that the oak tree was sacred. They 
performed their rites under its branches in 
good weather. These priests believed that this 
tree had strange and unknown powers. The 
black people of Africa believe trees have a way 
of talking to people. Each boy in their tribe 
chooses a young tree for his lifelong friend. He 
goes into the woods regularly and tells the tree 
his secrets and he says the tree tells him strange 
things. We find this hard to believe. I rather 
suspect that he either dreams or imagines that 
part of the story. 

“But Mabel is the next one on this program. 
What have you, my dear?” he asked, smiling 
down on her. 

“I have two poems to read,” she said. “Mother 
helped me to find them. I like them very much. 
This is the first one: 

T think that I shall never see 
A poem lovely as a tree. 

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest 


42 


OUTDOORLAND 


Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; 
A tree that looks at God all day 
And lifts her leafy arms to pray; 

A tree that may in summer wear 
A nest of robins in her hair; 

Upon whose bosom snow has lain 
Who intimately lives with rain. 

Poems are made by fools like me 
But only God can make a tree.' ” 

“That is by Joyce Kilmer. He was an Amer¬ 
ican, you know, and was killed in the World 
War. It is a lovely poem. Go on, dear, read 
the other one," Uncle Tom said with a far away 
look in his eyes as one has when one hears beau¬ 
tiful music. 

“The other one is a very short one, Uncle Tom, 
but, I like it very much too. 

‘The little firs demurely stand 
In studious rows, on either hand, 

On winter days about like these, 

All learning to be Christmas trees." 

“Fine! Fine! There is nothing like poetrjy 
to smooth out the wrinkles in our dispositions, 
Mabel. I am truly glad you selected the poems 
you did. They are beautiful. The last one you 
read will make what I am going to tell you more 


The Friendly Trees 


43 


interesting for I want to tell you some incidents 
about a few evergreens, and the fir is an ever¬ 
green. 

“We call these trees evergreens which keep 
their green dresses all winter. Four of them 
are much alike. They all have leaves which look 
like needles and all of them bear cones. These 
four trees are the spruce, the pine, the hemlock 
and the fir. It is said that the fir was the first 
Christmas tree. There are a great many dif¬ 
ferent stories about the first Christmas tree. 
Some of them are based on old legends and some 
have no truth in them whatsoever. Men have 
imagined them and written them down to en¬ 
tertain those who like to read a great deal. 

“The idea of putting presents on an evergreen 
tree probably came from an old custom of a 
country in Europe long ago. According to this 
custom young girls decorated a fir tree with 
lights, bright colored fabrics and trinkets and 
then danced about it singing gay songs. They 
believed that a tree nymph, who must give them 
whatever they wished before she could escape 
through their magic circle, was concealed in the 
branches. From that custom, no doubt, came our 
custom of decorating our evergreen tree at 


44 


OUTDOORLAND 


Christmas time and saying that dear old St. 
Nicholas or, as we call him, Santa Claus will fill 
it with presents for us. 

“The fir tree has been a sacred tree since before 
the Christian era. An old Greek legend says 
that, the king of the gods changed a friend into 
a fir tree that he might escape the punishment 
of one of the other gods whom he had angered. 

“The cedar is another famous old evergreen. I 
speak of it here because it is mentioned in the 
Bible so many times. King Solomon used it in 
making his wonderful temple. The wood is very 
fragrant and almost everlasting. The old Egyp¬ 
tians used cedar for making their mummy cases. 
Some of these mummies and their cases have 
been preserved for more than three thousand 
years. As I told you before I began, I had no 
special story about evergreens, but I thought 
these facts interesting.” 

“They are interesting, Uncle Tom,” William 
said. 

“Yes, indeed, I never will see a Christmas 
tree without thinking of them,” Mabel added. 

“There is a story, however, about the maple 
tree that I should like to tell you,” Uncle Tom 
continued. “It was told to me in Oklahoma by 


The Friendly Trees 


45 


Bear Claws, an old Seneca chief. We will call it 
‘How an Indian Squaw discovered Maple sugar/ 
I have known Bear Claws many years. I will 
tell you the story in his words as near as I can. 
On the day that, he told me we were sitting un¬ 
der a beautiful maple tree. Bright birds were 
flitting in and out among its branches. The 
leaves were just beginning to turn a glorious 
color from the touch of the first cold wind. 
‘What a beautiful tree the Maple is/ I said to 
him. 

“ ‘Do you know story how squaw find Maple 
sugar?’ he asked. 

“ ‘No/ I replied, ‘Tell it to me, please.’ 

“ ‘One time Indian squaw walk near camp. See 
cut tree dripping juice. She pay no attention. 
Walk on. She take long walk that day try to 
find plants for brave’s dinner. She much tired. 
Morning come, she not feel well. Brave bring 
moose meat last night. She have to go to spring 
on the hill get water to cook it in. Her back 
hurt her so she not want to go. She remember 
juice that drip from tree. “I use that,” she say 
to herself. She take pot and hang on limb so 
it catch juice as it fall. Then she sit down and 
wait. When pot full she go back home. She put 















































































































































The Friendly Trees 


47 


moose meat to boil in this. Another squaw come 
out of wigwam, sit in sun. Tired squaw go over 
talk. Stay long time. Come back, find moose 
meat covered with brown sticky stuff. This 
make her afraid. She know brave beat her if 
she ruin moose meat. She hide behind tree, see 
what he do. She watch him take top off vessel. 
He take up piece of moose meat. He take bite, 
look surprise. Then he eat and eat. Then he 
lick finger. Squaw come out from behind tree. 
Brave not beat. her. He ask how she make good 
sauce on moose meat. She tell him she boil it in 
juice of tree. After that all time Indian women 
boil moose meat in juice. That happen way off 
long time ago, squaw find sugar’ ”. 

Mabel and William began to bombard Uncle 
Tom with questions, both talking at once: Was 
Bear Claws old?” “Had he ever scalped any¬ 
one?” “Did he wear moccasins and a feather 
head dress?” 

“Just, a minute! One at a time. Yes, he was 
old. He wore moccasins and a chief’s head dress 
of feathers. And in the long ago I think he 
must have slipped upon the foe in the deep dark 
night and with tomahawk raised—” 


48 


OUTDOORLAND 


Just then a deep guttural voice spoke hair- 
raisingly from outside of the shutter. 

“E-fee-fo-fum, 

I smell the blood of an Englishman.” 

The children jumped as though the voice had 
been a gun shot. Even Uncle Tom looked 
around quickly. Then Father laughed and 
laughed. 

“Fooled you, didn’t I,” he said. “If the story 
hour is over I wish you would drive down to the 
field with me, Tom. I want to show you the fine 
stand of corn that is coming up there. I should 
like to ask you, Miss Mabel and Mr. William, 
to go also, but it is about time for your evening 
chores. We will see you this evening at supper. 
Come on, Tom, step lively, it’s growing late!” 




IV 

STORIES FROM A GARDEN 


It was late in the evening before Father and 
Uncle Tom returned from the field. At the sup¬ 
per table they talked of soil and seed so that 
the children had no opportunity to ask ques¬ 
tions or take part in the conversation. William 
started once to inquire further about Bear 
Claw’s story of sugar but Mother raised a warn¬ 
ing hand. 

“Don’t interrupt,” she said. “You must not 
take all of Uncle Tom’s time. Father and I 
want to visit with him some.” 

Bed time came soon and the children had to 
be content with dreams about Christmas pres¬ 
ents hidden away in Charter Oaks and squaws 
discovering white men making treaties in the 
tops of maple trees. Dreams will mix them¬ 
selves up so queerly! 

It was much later in the evening after Uncle 
Tom had finished his talk with Father that he 
said to Mother: “I believe I’ll draw the atten¬ 
tion of the children to flowers tomorrow. They 


(49) 


50 


OUTDOORLAND 


are beautiful at this time of year, both those in 
the gardens and those in the fields. The idea 
came to me from a bed of yellow primroses. 
They were just opening for the benefit of the 
night moths as we came home this evening. It’s 
queer, Sister, how little knowledge people have 
of nature, even the things they see every day. 
Now I get fun as well as knowledge out of know¬ 
ing stories about the trees and flowers and bugs 
and animals and I believe the children would. I 
thought of talking with them about flowers be¬ 
fore I came home. Tomorrow is as good a time 
as any to begin.” 

“But I hate for you to take all of your time 
'teaching William and Mabel. You should rest 
and read after your hard life in the mountains.” 

“Why, bless your heart, dear, I’m not teach¬ 
ing. I’m telling tales and I like it. I was too 
much alone out there in the wilds. I was almost 
a hermit. Playing around with these young¬ 
sters is what I enjoy. They are company for 
me and I’m company for them.” 

As Uncle Tom and Mabel walked across the 
yard the next morning Uncle Tom said, “The 
Dandelion is certainly a pushing fellow.” 

“But he is bright and shining, Uncle Tom. I 


Stories from a Garden 51 

think he is much prettier than plain grass, don't 
you?” Mabel replied. 

“Yes, he is. But his blossom is not all that 
there is to him. He follows that blossom with a 
ragged, gray puffball. When that is blown 
away, an ugly stem is left. And if you leave 
him long enough on the lawns he will crowd out 
all the grass and make the yard look ragged and 
unkept. The dandelions are so numerous that 
even though you destroy many of them there are 
too many left behind.” 

“Is he not good for anything, Uncle Tom? 
Mother says almost everything has a use,” 
Mabel said. 

“Yes, the dandelion has some good traits. The 
leaves are good for salad. The Indians roasted 
and ground the long roots and made a drink 
somewhat like coffee from them. In olden days 
a medicine was made from the roots and leaves. 
The dandelion is a much more beautiful flower 
than you would think. Let us pick a few and 
go into the summer house and look at them care¬ 
fully,” Uncle Tom suggested. 

Mabel ran at once to pick the bright yellow 
heads. 

“Get some stems and leaves, Mabel, while I 





























Stories from a Garden 


53 


dig out a root. We want to examine all of the 
dandelion plant while we are at it.” 

When they were seated in the summer house 
Uncle Tom handed Mabel a microscope. 

“Look at the flower and tell me what you see,” 
he said. 

“Oh! Uncle Tom, the flower is made up of 
many tiny flowers,” she said eagerly. 

“Yes, it is. Many other flowers are built 
that way. Little flowers too small for the eye 
to see, unless you look at them with a micro¬ 
scope, are put together to make a large flower. 
These little flowers in the dandelion are rolled 
lengthwise into tiny hollow tubes. When the 
sun unfolds them they are star-shaped as you 
see. Now, I am going to show you some tricks 
with the stem.” 

He pinched off the head and split the stem 
with his tongue. It curled up like a ribbon. 
Blowing through another stem, he made a de¬ 
lightful noise. 

“And if you have no straws handy you can 
drink your lemonade through a dandelion stem. 
Now look at the leaf. Isn’t it a jagged fellow? 
Dent-de-lion in French means ‘tooth of the lion.’ 
Some one thought that the leaf of this plant 


54 


OUTDOORLAND 


looked like the jagged tooth of a lion so he named 
it dent-de-lion. In time the name became dande¬ 
lion. See what a long root it has? No wonder 
it is hard to get rid of! Not only is it deter¬ 
mined to stay where it is but it has also a very 
rude habit of pushing itself in and other plants 
out. Suppose we take our trowels and dig out 
a few and teach Mr. Dandelion a lesson?” Uncle 
Tom said as he gathered up the scattered stems 
and leaves from the summer house table and 
put them in the trash can just outside the door. 

After they had been digging for a while Uncle 
Tom said, “I have an idea, Mabel. It is getting 
so warm I think x we had better quit digging 
until another day. If you will go into the house 
and make some sandwiches, IT1 go and get Bill. 
I feel sure he is almost through raking down 
the hay for the horses* dinner as Father told 
him to do. Then Fll come in and make a pitcher 
of lemonade and we’ll have a morning lunch 
under the trees. While we are refreshing our¬ 
selves, I’ll tell you something about the flowers 
in Mother’s garden.” 

“That will be just, fine,” Mabel said, dropping 
her trowel and starting at once for the house. 

It was scarcely thirty minutes later when the 






























































56 


OUTDOORLAND 


picnic party sat down around the lunch cloth. 
Mabel had lettuce and tomato, ham and cold 
chicken sandwiches. Uncle Tom had found a 
few ripe cherries on the tree at the kitchen win¬ 
dow. He had added those and a spray of mint 
to the lemonade. Mother had sent some ginger 
cookies. 

“My, but this looks good,” William said. “It 
certainly was hot up in the hay barn raking out 
that old hay. I sure hate to work.” 

Uncle Tom looked at him regretfully for a 
moment just as Mother always looked at them 
when they had done something naughty and she 
had to scold them, but he did not say anything. 
Instead, as he picked up a sandwich and reached 
for a glass of lemonade, he said, “I think Fll 
tell you something about the daisy and the 
violet and the rose this morning. As these are 
flowers that are grown in all gardens you will 
remember the stories about them easily. 

“In the High and Far-off times spring came to 
the earth just as it does now. The air was filled 
with the perfume of flowers and the singing of 
the birds in the trees. Everything was so beau¬ 
tiful on just such a morning that Beilis, a little 
tree nymph, came down to dance upon the grass. 


Stories prom a Garden 


57 


“The nymphs belonged to the trees in those 
days. They protected their trees; they helped 
them to cure their wounds and to leaf and 
flower. And the life of the tree nymph depend¬ 
ed upon the life of the tree which it was set to 
protect. Any injury to the tree was a wound to 
the nymph. If a man cut down the tree he 
killed the nymph as well as the tree. 

“Beilis should not have come down from her 
tree that morning but she had cleaned the 
trunk, had brushed the leaves and polished the 
flower petals. There was nothing more to do 
and the grass was so green that she wanted to 
dance upon it. She thought no harm would 
come from it. 

“But just as she was in her gayest measure 
the God of Spring came by. Beilis looked so 
sweet that he fell in love with her at sight and 
ran toward her to clasp her in his arms. She 
was so busy dancing gaily that she did not see 
him until he was almost beside her. When she 
did see him running toward her with his arms 
outstretched she was badly frightened and 
prayed to the King of the Gods to help her. The 
King of the Gods heard her prayer and was so 
provoked at the God of Spring for frightening 


58 


OUTDOORLAND 


her in this rude fashion that he turned Beilis 
into a daisy. And the daisy has been the sub¬ 
ject of song and story ever since. It has even 
been in history. Since the French name for 
daisy was marguerite the Queen Margarets of 
France have always made it their flower. Some 
of these royal ladies wore bouquets of it con¬ 
stantly; some had it embroidered on their cloaks 
and gowns.” 

“Is that story really true, Uncle Tom? Were 
there tree nymphs and could they be turned into 
flowers?” Mabel asked as she picked up the 
fifth cooky. 

Uncle Tom pretended to be greatly surprised 
that she should doubt the story. 

“Certainly it is true,” he replied winking at 
William. “At, least, perhaps it might be. The 
Romans believed it to be true, and, who knows, 
may be all the flowers were once little girls. 
May be all the little girls were once flowers. I 
shouldn’t wonder if you were not once a violet.” 

“Oh, Uncle Tom!” Mabel said as she realized 
that he was only teasing her. 

“At any rate the Indians believed that the 
violet came from the bodies of an Indian boy 
and girl. The red men say that a young brave 


Stories from a Garden 


59 


once fell in love with a maiden from a hostile 
tribe and in the deep dark night stole her away 
from her people. When morning came and her 
kinsfolk found her gone they were so angry that 
they set out to follow the fleeing lovers up and 
down, over the hills and plains by night and 
day. When the pursuing relatives finally 
caught up with the two runaways they saw that 
the maiden had wound her hair about the young 
man’s neck. This meant that they were mar¬ 
ried and that the young girl could never go 
back to her people. Her people were so angry 
then, because they had lost her forever, that 
they killed the boy and girl and left their bodies 
right there on the ground. 

“When spring came around again, a sweet blue 
flower sprang up in the place where the bodies 
had lain. And on the little petals were strands 
of the girl’s hair which had bound her to her 
lover. 

“Since the earliest days people have sung songs 
and told stories about the violet. It is so sweet¬ 
ly scented, so daintily formed, that it has been 
universally loved. Its very name means mod¬ 
esty. 

“The violet is useful also. Perfume and candy 


60 


OUTDOORLAND 


are made from it. The English people mix it 
with milk and honey to make a delicious des¬ 
sert. Like the daisy, the violet has had a place 
in history. It was the favorite flower of the 
people of Athens, the greatest people of ancient 
days. The Athenians used it to express their 
happiness on holidays; they cast it on bridal 
couples as we do rice; they crowned the living 
and covered the graves of the dead with the 
violet. The Romans offered violets of solid gold 
for prizes in prose and poetry. 

“Because Napoleon loved the violet it became 
the favorite flower of France while he ruled. 
When he returned to the palace after his ban¬ 
ishment to Elba he was greeted with a shower of 
violets. It is one of the earliest flowers in the 
spring. I love it better than any flower except 
the rose. There must be hundreds of stories 
about the rose,” said Uncle Tom, closing his eyes 
as if he were going to sleep. 

“Oh, Uncle Tom, don’t go to sleep. Just tell 
us one story about the rose,” pleaded W r illiam. 

“All right.,” replied Uncle Tom drowsily. 
“There are two which come to my mind just 
now. One is about St. Denis and the purple 


Stories from a Garden 


61 


rose; the other one is how the red rose became 
queen of the flowers. Which shall it be?” 

“St. Denis!” replied William because that 
name sounded like history. 

“How the red rose became queen!” cried 
Mabel at the same time. 

“Well of all things! Can’t you agree?” 

“I had much rather hear about St. Denis,” in¬ 
sisted William. 

“And I’d rather hear about the queen of the 
flowers,” repeated Mabel. 

“It looks as if I’m going to have to tell both 
of them,” said Uncle Tom with a sigh. 

“Once in the grand old long ago as St. Denis, 
the guardian saint of France, was riding across 
a strange country on his faithful horse, he lost 
his way. No one lived in this country and there 
was nothing to eat but wild fruit. As he wan¬ 
dered around he came upon a tree covered with 
purple berries. Being very hungry, he ate some 
of them. Very soon after he had eaten he be¬ 
came very drowsy and went bo sleep. When he 
awakened and tried to walk upright he grew 
so dizzy that he dropped on his hands and 
knees. Crawling along, he came to a spring of 
water. As he looked into it he was astonished 


62 


OUTDOORLAND 


to see not himself but a hairy creature with long 
horns and four legs. To make a long story 
short, he saw that he was bewitched. Some 
strange power had taken his helmet and armor 
from him and had turned him into a deer. He 
was so distressd at this that he did not stop a 
moment but ran back to the tree where he had 
eaten the berries and fell down on the ground 
and groaned aloud. As he lay there he was 
startled to hear the berry tree speak to him. 

“ ‘I am Eglantine,’ it said. ‘I was turned into 
this tree because of my vanity. I am compelled 
to stay a tree for seven years. For that same 
time you are to remain a deer. But, if at the end 
of that time you will eat of the purple rose 
which you will find in these woods you will be 
changed back into a man. If you will then cut 
down this tree I, too, will be set at liberty.’ 

“That was all! The tree said no more and, 
although St. Denis came again and again to rest 
under its branches, it never spoke to him again. 

“The years went slowly by and at last seven 
had passed. When the end of the time came, St. 
Denis fell into a deep sleep. While he slept his 
horse, which had never left him while he was a 
deer, wandered about eating grass and leaves 


Stories from a Garden 


63 


from the bushes. As he was grazing, the animal 
came upon a purple rose bush in full bloom. He 
broke off a branch and carried it to his master 
who awakened as he came near. St. Denis took 
the rose and ate it. Then the saint slept again. 
When he awoke he was a man again and the 
helmet and armor which had been mysteriously 
taken away from him were lying by his side. 
He put them on, took his sword in his hand and 
cut the berry tree in two pieces. It was con¬ 
sumed in fire and smoke at once. When the fire 
died away in the place where the tree had stood 
there was a beautiful young maiden. 

“‘I am Eglantine. I remember well the way 
across the wilderness out of this enchanted land 
to the palace of my father. Come, let us go to 
it/ she said. 

“When they arrived at the palace there was 
great rejoicing for the king had thought his 
daughter dead. St. Denis and his faithful horse, 
upon whose back they had returned, were treat¬ 
ed very royally. And in that country the dark 
red rose which seemed to be purple in the deep 
forests was called Eglantine ever after.” 

Mabel and William were much impressed 
with the remarkable feat of a man and girl be- 









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^guvr-t/fiserKer 










Stories from a Garden 


65 


ing turned into a deer and a tree and then back 
into themselves. They thought it wonderful 
also that a horse would wait around seven years 
for its master to change back into a man. Their 
questions about every detail came thick and fast. 

“How should I know?” Uncle Tom said, 
stretching out on the ground after he had fin¬ 
ished his last sandwich. “I wasn't there. I 
don't know that any more than I know how the 
princess turned into the red rose which became 
the Queen of the Flowers. I know only that the 
story book says she did.” 

“Go on, Uncle Tom. Tell us about it. If you 
can't tell how, just tell us when and how it came 
about,” Mabel cried, clapping her hands. 

“Do you know what you said?” Bill asked. 
“ Tf you can't tell us how, tell us how,' ” he 
sneered. “What sense is there in that?” 

Uncle Tom stopped the words between them 
by beginning the story. 

“In the beginning of the world when all the 
flowers could talk there was a very beautiful 
garden which lay between two hills under an 
amethyst blue sky. In this garden were the 
choicest of fruits and flowers. Great red apples, 
luscious pears and golden oranges grew side by 


66 


OUTDOORLAND 


side with lovely lilacs, dainty daisies and frag¬ 
rant honeysuckle. 

“When these flowers were in bloom their per¬ 
fume was so sweet that it was wafted away on 
the air for miles and miles, sometimes even far 
out to sea. This garden was owned by a lovely 
young lady called Princess Beautiful. She loved 
the flowers so much, cared for them so tenderly 
and coaxed them to bloom so wonderfully, that 
many people came from far off countries only 
to look at the flowers. Often among these vis¬ 
itors were men of high rank who wished not 
only to look at the garden but also to woo and 
win the princess. But the princess could not be 
won. Her heart was with her flowers and she 
would not leave them even though it made her 
sad to see these friends leave her with heavy 
hearts. 

“One day a great queen and all her court came 
to visit Princess Beautiful and to see her gar¬ 
den. The queen was delighted with the flowers 
and lingered long among them, inhaling their 
perfume and admiring their beauty. 

“The flowers were pleased with the queen’s ad¬ 
miration. When she had gone they talked of her 
wonderful jewels and the splendor of her court. 


Stories from a Garden 


67 


By and by they decided they would have a queen 
of the flowers. And although they talked about 
the matter for a long time and, no doubt, argued 
about it, they could not decide which flower to 
make queen. 

“While they were still undecided about it, a 
young traveller from an unknown country came 
to see the princess. She led him through the 
garden, showing him the most delicate and beau¬ 
tiful of all the plants. The young man and the 
princess wandered up and down and all around 
the garden, enjoying the flowers until evening 
drew near. When the sun was going down it 
shone on the young man’s golden hair and fair 
young face, lighting them up with wonderful 
beauty and making his garments shine with a 
great richness. 

“As the princess looked at him she knew that 
she loved him. So she spoke to him and told him 
that in all her life she had never seen any one 
just like him. But even as she spoke the young 
man began to fade away, little by little, and at 
last in the place where he had been standing 
there was only a golden lily. 

“Then Princess Beautiful knew that this was 
a punishment sent to her because she had loved 


OUTDOORLAND 


the garden too much and the people too little. 
She was so grieved about losing this young man 
friend that she pined and pined and finally died. 

“The people planted a white rose where she 
was buried and built a trellis for it to grow 
upon. But when the rose bloomed it was not 
white at all, but a beautiful crimson such as no 
one had ever seen before. The flowers knew it 
was the heart of the Princess Beautiful re¬ 
turned to them. That is why they made the red 
rose queen of the flowers. 

“And that is the end of that story,” Uncle Tom 
said, turning on his face. “If any one comes 
around here wanting to ask questions about 
something that I don’t know anything about, 
will you please tell him I am asleep? I can 
snore to prove it. But if there is no one with 
any questions, I have an idea for doing some¬ 
thing interesting which I shall state to you. We 
will wait a moment to see if there are any ques¬ 
tions.” 

There wasn’t a sound. 

“Well, you know that doctors do research 
work, some scientists do experimenting, other 
scientists go exploring. Let’s pretend we are 


Stories from a Garden 69 

like these men. Let's go exploring! Let's do 
research and experimenting." 

“How, Uncle Tom?" Mabel asked. 

“If you will wait a minute he will tell you. 
You're always running ahead!" said William. 

“Let's learn all we can about flowers and their 
use. Let's experiment with mounting our speci¬ 
mens in a neat notebook. The one that has the 
most specimens by the end of the month and has 
them mounted in the neatest way will receive one 
dollar as a prize. How about it? Who wants to 
enter this contest?" 

“I'm willing," said Bill. 

“So am I. Let's begin right now," answered 
Mabel, beginning to collect the dishes and roll 
up the cloth. 

“All right," replied Uncle Tom. “You go 
down by the roadside and gather some of the 
wild flowers you see there. I am going to take 
a nap while you are gone. When you return I'll 
tell you what I know about a few of the flowers 
you have gathered. You can press them and I 
will show you how to mount them. After this 
I will let you work alone." 

Uncle Tom had hardly dozed before the chil¬ 
dren were back with a handful of wild flowers. 


70 


OUTDOORLAND 


“Goodness me! Did you fly?” he asked. “I 
haven’t even taken a cat nap, not two winks 
when here you are back with your questions. 
What have you? Yarrow, blackeyed susan, an 
early sunflower, pointed blue-eyed grass, wild 
mint, thistle, pennyroyal—. I’ve changed my 
mind about telling you these stories. I’m lazy. 
I believe I shall let you look them up in a book. 
It is time you were learning to look in books for 
knowledge any way. Why should I talk myself 
to death telling tales?” he asked, half laughing. 

“Bill, you go to the house and look on the bot¬ 
tom shelf of the book-case by the window in the 
study and bring me a little yellow book which 
you will find there. I will tell you the name of 
the flower and Mabel will read about it aloud to 
us.” 

When Bill returned with the book he handed 
it to Mabel. 

“This is the yarrow,” said Uncle Tom, picking 
up a grayish white flower. “You will find it 
listed in the index. Have you found it?” 

“Yes, here it is, Uncle Tom. ‘The yarrow is a 
wild flower which may be seen all over America. 
It grew in Europe first. It was brought to Amer¬ 
ica in early days. 


Stories from a Garden 


71 


“The yarrow is sometimes called Nose Bleed 
or Old Man’s Pepper. The slender stem of the 
yarrow is about two feet high. The leaves are 
curled and feathery like fern leaves. The flower 
is large and grayish white and looks something 
like a cauliflower head. The yarrow blossom, 
like that of a dandelion, is made up of many 
tiny blossoms. The yarrow has a very pleasant 
odor. 

“Like many other plants the yarrow has been 
used for many things. In one country they make 
bridal wreaths of it. In another country they 
make beer. In yet another, people wear it on 
their bodies because they think it will drive fear 
away. One great general, in days gone by, used 
it to heal the wounds of his soldiers. 

“Yarrow will stop nose bleed. Yarrow tea is a 
mild tonic. The green leaves of the yarrow, 
moistened with hot water, will heal bumps, 
bruises and fresh cuts. It is said that it will 
stop the toothache. The Scotch Highlanders 
make an ointment from it. . . 

“Oh, Uncle Tom, is all medicine made from 
plants?” interrupted William. “I thought doc¬ 
tors made medicine.” 

“Much of it is taken from plants. Men only 


72 


OUTDOORLAND 


find the uses of plants: they cannot make plants. 
Don’t you remember Mabel’s poem, ‘Only God 
can make a tree?’ This next plant is the very 
common blackeyed susan.” 

“The blackeyed susan blooms from May until 
September and grows to a height of two or three 
feet,” read Mabel. “The petals are a bright beau¬ 
tiful orange. The center is a brownish purple. 
Insects and butterflies love the blackeyed susan 
but the farmers do not love it because it takes 
up so much space in the fields. Even the cattle 
will not eat it. When you go into the fields on a 
picnic, you may gather all you want. The blos¬ 
soms make the house look more beautiful and the 
farmers are glad to be rid of them.” 

“Here is a poem about the blackeyed susan, 
Uncle Tom. Shall I read that?” Mabel asked. 
“Yes, indeed, do.” 

Merry laughing Blackeyed Susans grow 
Along the dusty way, 

Homely, wholesome, happy hearted little 
Country maids are they. 

Frailer sisters shirk and wither ’neath 
The hot midsummer sun, 

But these sturdy ones will revel till 
The long bright days are gone. 


Stories from a Garden 


73 


Though they lack the rose’s 
Sweetness and the lily’s tender grace, 

We are thankful for the brightness of each 
Honest, glowing face; 

For in dry and barren places where 
No daintier blooms would stay, 

Merry laughing Blackeyed Susans cheer 
Us on our weary way. 

“I like that poem, Mabel. If we haven’t found 
a use for the blackeyed susan yet, we do know 
that it is a gay happy flower that brightens the 
brown earth. Now, here is an early sunflower,” 
Uncle Tom said. 

“Oh, Uncle Tom, I know a story about the sun¬ 
flower. Let me tell that,” Mabel asked. 

“Very good; go ahead.” 

“Once there was a very naughty little girl. 
Her name was Clytie. She would not sew or 
spin. She would not dust or sweep. She would 
not work at all. She wanted only to stay out of 
doors and watch the sun god drive his chariot 
across the sky. 

“Sometimes she would stay out of doors all day 
long and watch him. She would watch to see him 
come up in the east. She would look straight up 
at him at noon. In the afternoon she would look 


74 


QUTDOORLAND 


at him in the west. And she would not go when 
her mother called her to come and help with the 
house work. 

“But the sun god did not like her because she 
would not help her mother. He thought Clytie 
was a bad little girl. And he grew tired of hav¬ 
ing her watch him all day. At last he decided to 
punish her. He changed her into a flower. He 
made her yellow curls into bright petals. He 
made her brown eyes into one large center and 
he changed her body into a stalk. Her arms be¬ 
came limbs on the stalk. The sun god made 
Clytie’s dress into green leaves and he made her 
feet roots in the ground. 

“Clytie became the sunflower. But still all day 
long she stands and watches the sun. In the 
morning she looks to the east. At noon she looks 
straight up. In the afternoon she turns to the 
west. And if you do not believe it, Uncle Tom, 
you may watch and see. It is true because I have 
watched. I read that story when school first 
started last fall. I watched a sunflower and I 
saw it turn.” 

“You saw it turn?” asked Uncle Tom. 

“No, you can’t see it, turn but you can see that 
it has turned. How does it do that, Uncle Tom?” 


Stories from a Garden 75 

“More questions! Goodness me! I don’t know, 
dear. I wish I did. Now, if you will go to the 
house and look in the top table drawer in my 
room you’ll see two scrap-books there that will 
be fine to paste flowers in after they are pressed. 
Did I say a dollar would be the prize?” 

No one answered him for William and Mabel 
were racing to the house and this time William 
was running far ahead. 







V 


INSECT WORKERS AND THEIR ODD 
WORKS 

“William, I wish you would go out to the 
chicken house and bring me some fresh eggs. 
And when you have done that, please bring me 
in some stove wood,” his mother called. 

William was out on the cool front porch, past¬ 
ing some flower specimens in his scrap book. 

“In a minute! Just as soon as I finish this I 
will come,” he replied. 

“No, come this moment. I want the eggs at 
once.” 

“Just as soon as I get to doing something I 
want to do, some one calls me to do something 
else,” Bill grumbled to himself. “Why do I have 
to go after eggs? T don't eat eggs. Why should 
I bring in wood? I don't have to have cooked 
foods. I can eat, breakfast food and apples all 
the time if necessary,” he said crossly to himself 
as he went across the yard, dragging his feet in 
the dust. 

Uncle Tom was reading on the porch. He 

076 ) 


Insect Workers and Their Odd Works 77 

looked thoughtfully after William as the boy 
walked across the yard after the eggs but he said 
nothing. The next morning at breakfast, he 
turned to William’s mother. 

“Sister, may I borrow your young son this 
morning? I have an errand over at Neighbor 
Jones’. I am going by the long way through the 
woods and I should like to have William go with 
me if you can spare him. And, if we may, we 
shall take a lunch and not return until evening.” 

“Why, certainly, Tom, I shall be glad to have 
him go with you. Mabel and I are spending the 
day in town so we are all vacationing today but 
Father,” she replied. 

“Never mind about me,” Father said good- 
naturedly. “I’ll take mine some other day.” 

It was a lovely morning. The grass was grow¬ 
ing briskly in the sunny places. All the oak trees 
were dressed in the fresh green leaves of early 
summer. The red birds were darting from limb 
to limb and a feeling of happiness was in the 
air. Uncle Tom carried a cane which he swung 
merrily as he walked and talked. 

It was an hour or more before William and his 
uncle reached Neighbor Jones’ place but it 
seemed a much shorter time than that to Wil- 


78 


OUTDOORLAND 


liam. Uncle Tom was such an interesting com¬ 
panion that he had not noticed the passing of 
time. 

“Good morning, neighbor,” Uncle Tom said 
gaily to Mr. Jones. “I am interested in the bee 
business this morning. We want to look at your 
hives, if we may.” 

“Help yourself. Look all you please,” replied 
Mr. Jones. 

There were a great many hives, real little 
houses, set in rows one after another. There 
were small openings down near the floor where 
the bees went in and out and there were also 
glass windows where you could see the bees work¬ 
ing inside. 

William thought he had never seen anything 
so busy as the bees seemed to be. 

“Do they work this way all the time, Uncle 
Tom?” he asked. 

“I have never seen them idle,” Uncle Tom re¬ 
plied. “Watch them closely, Bill. Do you see 
those bees which are steadily working their 
wings near the covered entrance?” 

“Yes.” 

“They are ventilating the hive. They make an 
air current so that fresh air constantly comes 
































































80 


OUTDOORLAND 


into the hive and foul air constantly goes out. 
On cold days the bees buzz faster so that the 
hive will be warmer. Those bees going in and 
out are the food gatherers. Can you see the food 
they carry ?” 

“No, where is it, Uncle Tom? Do you see it?” 
Bill asked. 

“No, of course not,” his uncle replied. “No one 
can see it for the bees have swallowed it into 
their crops. It is not digested but kept there un¬ 
til the bee can return to the hive when it is de¬ 
posited in the food cells. 

“If you could see into the top of the hive you 
would notice a number of bees hanging there. 
They are the wax-makers which make the honey 
comb. They first eat some of the flower pollen 
and the honey which the food gatherers have put 
into the food cells. Then they gather together in 
the top of the hive and buzz their wings violent¬ 
ly. After a while drops of liquid wax ooze out 
of the under side of their bodies. When enough 
of this wax has oozed out, the bee goes to the 
place where a new comb is to be built and snips 
off the wax on his body with his hind legs which 
are made something like scissors. After he has 


Insect Workers and Their Odd Works 81 

snapped the wax off, he moulds it on the new 
cells with his broad, trowel-like jaws. 

“There are other bees called nurses which do 
nothing but take care of the young. There is 
only one mother bee. She is the queen of all the 
hive. There are several hundred drones, bees 
that do no work at all. From these the queen bee 
chooses her husband. After she has chosen one 
from the number of males all the other drones 
are killed. They are of no use so the workers get 
rid of them. 

“Insects like these that live and work together 
are called communal insects. Each one has a 
duty to perform. None but the drones are idle 
and they are soon killed off. 

“All human families are communal. Each mem¬ 
ber has a duty to perform. Your father makes 
the money for the family but he doesn’t spend it 
all. Your mother cooks the food but she doesn’t 
eat it all. Mabel makes the beds but she doesn’t 
sleep in them all. Your part is to bring in the 
eggs, rake down the hay and keep the wood box 
full. If you were a bee and quarrelled, as you 
did yesterday about gathering the eggs, they 
would call you a drone and get rid of you, don’t 
you think?” asked Uncle Tom kindly. 


OUTDOORLAND 


William looked ashamed as he said, “Yes, sir!” 

To return from Neighbor Jones’ farm, Uncle 
Tom and Bill chose a route different from the 
one they had used to go there. As they were 
passing through the deep woods they saw what 
looked like a large, gray paper bag hanging 
from a tree. It seemed to be filled with air as is 
a toy balloon. 

“Oh, what is that?” Uncle Tom asked as he 
stopped quickly and pointed with his cane to¬ 
ward it. 

“Don’t touch it, Uncle Tom. Don’t stop here 
even. That’s a hornet’s nest,” William replied 
excitedly. 

“But it looks like paper. It is paper,” said 
Uncle Tom, going closer and peering curiously 
at it. 

“I don’t know what it is made of but I do know 
that hornets will sting something fearful. I’m 
going.” 

William suited the action to the word. Uncle 
Tom, smiling to himself, soon followed him. 

The two companions walked along without 
talking for a while. Finally William said, “You 
knew what that was all the time, Uncle Tom, 


Insect Workers and Their Odd Works 83 

didn’t you?” When Uncle Tom laughed William 
asked, “Are hornet’s nests made of paper?” 

“Yes, they really are. Wasps and hornets be¬ 
long to the same family as the bee. This family 
is called the Hymenoptera family. The Hymen- 
optera family were the first paper makers. Men 
learned how to make paper from them. 

“The hornets’ nest which you saw back there is 
an intricate affair. Inside that sack are several 
combs, like the bee combs, except these hornet 
combs have no honey in them. The combs are 
placed one above the other and serve as rooms 
for the hornets and their families. The sack is 
made of many layers of paper and the only open¬ 
ing is a small hole at the bottom. The wasps do 
not have the outer envelope around the comb; 
the paper comb alone serves as a house. 

“When man makes paper he cuts down many 
trees and brings them into the paper mills where 
they are ground into a pulp and mixed with a 
substance to make the pulp-fragments stick to¬ 
gether. Then by various processes the pulp is 
rolled, smoothed, and glazed. Now wasps do the 
very same thing except that what man does with 
intricate machinery the wasp does with her jaws 
and feet and the juice from her mouth. The wasp 


84 


OUTDOORLAND 


chews decayed wood into a ball and spits it out 
on a leaf and kneads it as a baker does his bread 
dough. Then she spreads it out to dry. When it 
is dry, she chews it again and kneads it out and 
spreads it out to dry again. This is done many 
times over and over again. Sometimes this proc¬ 
ess is gone through as many as eight times be¬ 
fore the wasp is satisfied with her handiwork. 
When the decayed wood has been chewed and 
kneaded enough the wasp glazes it by licking it 
with her tongue. When it has dried it is ready 
to make into a blanket, a cradle for the wasp 
babies or into a wasp house. 

“The wasps made paper for hundreds of years 
before men thought of doing so. Men never 
would have made paper, probably, if some one 
had not watched the wasps closely and told what 
he had seen. 

“The wasps make several kinds of paper. It is 
very tough and some of their paper houses have 
been known to last as long as eight years. There 
are several kinds of wasps also. Some make mud 
houses. These are called the mason wasps. The 
wasps in very hot countries make immense 
houses of paper. Sometimes such houses are six 
feet long.” 


Insect Workers and Their Odd Works 85 

“How did man find out all these things about 
the bee and the wasp, Uncle Tom?” 

“By watching them constantly over a long per¬ 
iod of time. The most important discoveries 
about the bee were made by a blind scientist 
named Francois Huber,” said Uncle Tom as he 
walked briskly along the path. 

“A blind man, Uncle Tom! How could a blind 
man watch a bee?” William asked in astonish¬ 
ment. 

“It does seem impossible, doesn’t it? If you 
would like me to do so, I’ll begin at the first and 
tell you the story of his remarkable life.” 

“Oh, do, Uncle Tom!” 


[MISS "A PI'S] 























VI 


THE BLIND HISTORIAN OF ANTS AND 
BEES 

Francois Huber was born in Geneva, Switzer¬ 
land, many, many years ago. When he was but 
a little boy he became very much interested in 
all nature. He read about the wonders of the 
earth. He watched the marvelous creation of 
life all about him. He became so much interested 
in these things and read so much and so long in¬ 
to the night that he went blind. Of course it was 
very foolish for the boy to carry his love of study 
so far, and it was very unfortunate that he lost 
his sight. 

But it is not what we meet that matters so 
much as how we meet it. Young Francois, no 
doubt, made up his mind that he would not let 
his blindness ruin his happiness or his useful¬ 
ness. History does not tell much about his life 
at this time except that his father and mother, 
his brothers and sisters read to him a great deal. 
And I feel sure that we can believe much of this 
reading was about nature. As he was unable to 


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e 



















































88 


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play as other boys do, Francois had time to re¬ 
call and think over what he had learned. 

In time he married Mademoiselle Marie Aimee 
Lullin. This beautiful young lady loved Huber 
so well that she determined to give all her time 
to help him with his study of nature. Monsieur 
Huber had also a faithful, intelligent servant 
who became interested in the study of nature 
and who was of great help to his master. 
Madame Huber and this servant watched the 
bees very carefully. They discovered the work 
and habits of the queen bee, the nurses, the food 
gatherers and the wax workers. It was they 
who made the discovery that the bees fan their 
wings to keep the air pure and fresh in the hive. 
Every night they talked ,bver with Monsieur 
Huber what they had seen during the day. Then 
he made records of what they had seen. In the 
long winter months they studied about insects 
out of books. 

When they thought they had learned enough 
to make a book, Monsieur Huber wrote a volume 
about the bees. It told so much more about the 
life of these insects than had been known before 
that the naturalists did not believe him. They 
said, ‘Whoever heard of such a thing? How can 


The Blind Historian 


89 


he know what a bee does? He is stone blind. 
We will watch closely and prove what he says 
is not true/ But when they watched closely they 
found that what he had said was absolutely 
true. So his name has come down to us in 
science as the greatest of all students of the bee. 

When Monsieur Huber’s son grew to manhood 
he became interested in ants. His book on the 
Habits of Ants is very interesting. He learned 
that of all insects the ants are the most intelli¬ 
gent and do the most remarkable and astonish¬ 
ing things. The ants also have queens, nurses 
and workers. But in addition to this the ants 
have soldiers and slaves. The ant soldiers 
work in formations and have plans of attack 
just as human soldiers do. The red ants often 
attack a hill of black ants, overcome them and 
carry them home for slaves. The red ants do 
nothing at all in their homes. They make the 
black ants do all the work even to feeding them 
and keeping them clean. 

Ants keep cows whose milk they drink. Cer¬ 
tainly they are not cows like human beings 
keep. These ant-cows are small plant lice which 
give forth a sweet honey when the ants stroke 
them. This honey is lapped up by the ants and 


90 


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is greatly enjoyed by them. The ants protect 
and care for their cows just as human beings 
care for theirs. 

Some kinds of ants build great houses, some¬ 
times as’ high as forty stories. And there are 
farmer ants which clear away the weeds and 
leave only the kind of plants they like to eat. 
These plants are carefully tended and when 
the seeds are ready to harvest the ants gather 
the grain and store it away in their granaries. 

Young Huber insisted that ants could talk. 
Of course he did not say that they could make 
sounds as we do; he said they talked by touching 
their antennae together. These antennae are 
the feelers which are fastened to their heads 
something like a cat's whiskers. 

The blind naturalist, Francois Huber, was' 
a very great man. He kept on working at his 
studies in spite of his blindness. He gave his 
wife and his servant something useful and inter¬ 
esting to do with their lives. He interested 
his son in nature so that Pierre also studied and 
gave to the world some useful information. He 
revealed to the world in his book about bees 
some remarkable facts about these small insects. 


The Blind Historian 91 

He helped to show the marvelous creatures in 
the world all about us.” 

“It just seems impossible to me that the ant 
and the wasp can do all these things. Think 
how little they are! I am like the naturalists 
who disbelieved Huber; you’ll have to show me 
before I can believe it all,” William said as 
Uncle Tom finished. 

“Well, it is easy enough to see them do some 
things. Stir up an ant nest any day and you 
will see soldiers form in line of attack. And if 
you do not get out of the way you will feel the 
attack also,” Uncle Tom said laughingly. “All 
the members of the Hymenoptera family are 
strong, ingenious creatures. The wasp can lift 
ten times its weight. An ant is also as strong. 
The bees show some remarkable traits. If an 
enemy larger than themselves gets into the 
hive they will sting it to death and if they can 
not remove it, they will embalm it with a kind 
of wax to keep it from decaying and fouling 
the hive. Indeed, there are no other insects in 
which we find such intelligence. They certainly 
seem to have more than blind instinct. 

“And there is another thing about these little 
insects which excites our wonder. None of 


92 


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them are fully developed at birth,” Uncle Tom 
said thoughtfully. 

“Well, neither is a chicken nor a kitten. Come 
to think of it, is there any animal which is fully 
developed at birth?” William asked as if he 
had made a discovery. 

“That is true. Almost all animals are under¬ 
developed at birth but they have the same life 
form that they have when full grown. The life 
that is in these insects changes into four forms.” 

“What!” exclaimed William, very much as¬ 
tonished. 

“Yes, this is true. First the life is in the egg; 
second, it is hatched into a sort of worm called 
the larva; third, it goes into a cocoon-like case 
for a period of sleep during which time we call 
it the pupa; fourth, it comes out a beautiful 
winged creature. The larvae of the bees and 
ants are very carefully tended by them. The 
only care the wasps give to their larvae is to 
lay the eggs on meat so that the little ones will 
have food close at hand when they are hatched.” 

William had learned something at school 
about the changing life forms of the butterfly, 
but he had been surprised that the bee and the 
ant and the wasp go through changes of form. 


The Blind Historian 


He was a quiet, thoughtful boy, and he had 
been observing that Uncle Tom told a story 
just as well without questions from himself. 
Hoping that Uncle Tom would tell something 
further if he did not interrupt, he asked no ques¬ 
tions. 

“There are creatures besides the Hymenop- 
tera which go through different life forms. 
Butterflies , eggs hatch not into butterflies but 
into worm-like caterpillars; newly hatched 
frogs are not frogs at all but little tadpoles. 
Let us sit down here under this tree and while 
we eat our lunch I will tell you about the butter¬ 
flies and, if we have time, Til tell you of a pet 
toad I once owned,” Uncle Tom said. 

“You have heard the story of the beautiful 
prince who was changed into a frog by the old 
witch and then changed back into the prince by 
the good fairy, Bill,” Uncle Tom said as he 
began his first sandwich. “The butterfly story 
is something like that story, only there is no 
old witch but just the kind fairy, mother nature. 

“Nature teaches Madame Butterfly where to 
lay her eggs. We might ask why it is that 
Mother Nature needs to be so particular about 
Madame Butterfly’s eggs when she lets Mother 


94 


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Hen lay hers wherever she chooses. The answer 
is this: she must be particular in this case be¬ 
cause Madame Butterfly will not sit on her eggs 
and hatch them. She leaves that task to the 
sun and the warm air. And when the eggs are 
hatched she is too far away to take care of 
her babies. They are forced to take care of 
themselves. That is why Mother Nature teaches 
gay Madame Butterfly to lay her eggs on the 
kind of a leaf which the babies will eat when 
they are hatched out. You see, the food is pre¬ 
pared for them and is right at hand. When 
the butterfly eggs are hatched, the newly arrived 
insects are not butterflies at all but worms; 
that is, they are very like worms. As soon as 
they are hatched, the grubs begin to eat. How 
they eat! They do nothing but eat all day long. 
After about nine days of feeding, they get too 
fat for their skins just as you children outgrow 
last year’s clothes. What do you suppose they 
do then? They can’t go to the store and get new 
ones of course. And as they can’t buy any 
more they just pop out of the old skins. A new 
loose one had been growing under the old one. 
Consequently it is all right to pop out.” 

William looked at Uncle Tom in amazement. 


The Blind Historian 


95 


“Yes, Bill, they do that very thing. Then the 
caterpillars, for that is what we call them, be¬ 
gin to eat again just as greedily as they did 
before. At the end of nine days they grow too 
fat for that skin and out they pop again. They 
grow new skins some four or five times. In 
about nine days after they have thrown off the 
last skin the caterpillar begins to grow sleepy. 
If a sleepy caterpillar was where you could 
watch it you would see it begin to spin a thread 
from its mouth. It would fasten this thread 
to a limb near by and then wind thread all 
around its own body. When it was through 
it would be in a snug little house. We call this 
house the cocoon. The caterpillar sleeps in the 
cocoon-house about two weeks. The cocoon has 
no doors or windows through which to come out. 
The threads do not pop open to let it out. The 
caterpillar comes out of the cocoon as the little 
chick comes out of the shell of the egg. It 
makes an opening for itself. The insect has 
no sharp bill as the chick has but it has a won¬ 
derful mouth. It pours a juice from its jaw 
upon the walls of the cocoon. This juice softens 
the silk and the insect pushes through the 


96 


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softened threads. When it comes out, it is a 
caterpillar no longer but a butterfly. 

“These butterflies flit about from flower to 
flower. There are hundreds of different kinds 
of butterflies of all colors and sizes. Some of 
them never eat at all and some only live by 
drinking nectar from the flowers. 

“The butterflies do not seem to be useful at all 
yet there is a type of butterfly which is very 
useful. From the cocoon of this special butter¬ 
fly in its pupa state, all the real silk in the world 
is made. The thread that this little worm spins 
to wrap himself in is a silken thread. The 
little worms are allowed to go to sleep in their 
cocoons but they are not allowed to come out 
because in coming out the winged creature would 
break through the thread and make it unfit for 
commercial use. Men take these cocoons and 
bake them in hot ovens to kill the worms. They 
then put the cocoons into hot water to melt the 
glue which the worms have used to stick the 
threads together. The end of the thread, which 
is found easily after the glue has been removed, 
is then unwound and is ready for the silk 
makers. This thread is very fine, however, and it 


The Blind Historian 


97 


takes many strands to make a thread strong 
enough for the silk manufacturers.” 

“Who first learned to make silk, Uncle Tom?” 
William asked. 

“That is a story all by itself. I suppose I 
might as well tell you that one too while we are 
on the subject.” 








VII 

THE CURIOUS STORY OF SILK 


“Once upon a time about four thousand years 
ago a Chinese emperor and his beautiful wife 
were walking in their lovely garden just, at sun¬ 
set. Everything was very quiet and the garden 
was wonderful. Perfume from hundreds of 
beautiful flowers filled the air. A little foun¬ 
tain sprayed the water softly in a pool where 
goldfish played. The Emperor, with his arms 
around the shoulders of the Empress, stood and 
watched them. He loved his wife very dearly 
and walked with her in the garden every eve¬ 
ning. When they were tired of watching the 
goldfish they wandered down the path until they 
came to a seat under the mulberry tree. There 
had been a strong wind a few nights before 
which had blown many leaves from the trees. 
The gardeners had swept all these away but 
they had not seen a silk worm cocoon which had 
been blown loose from the limb where it was 
fastened and had fallen to the ground. The 
Emperor stooped and picked it up and as he 

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100 


OUTDOORLAND 


talked he carelessly pulled it to pieces. He 
noticed the fine sheen of the thread. 

“ ‘Do you know, my dear, that I believe beauti¬ 
ful cloth could be made from these threads? 
Many of them would have to be woven together 
before it could be undertaken but I believe it 
could be done. What beautiful robes it would 
make for you and me/ 

“Now the Empress loved the Emperor as much 
as he loved her. She wanted to please him in 
all things. On the next day after they had 
walked in the garden and found the cocoon, she 
called several of the servants to her and said, 
‘Go into the garden and watch the cocoons on 
the mulberry trees. Stay there until they open. 
Some of you stay there all the time. When the 
cocoons open, capture the little winged creatures 
and bring them to me!’ Then she had a warm, 
sunny room prepared. When the servants 
brought the moths she had mulberry limbs 
placed all around the room. The servants 
placed the insects on these limbs and in a short 
time they laid their eggs on the leaves. The 
Empress herself took care of the eggs and the 
silkworms that hatched from them. When the 
worms had gone into the cocoons she unwound 


The Curious Story of Silk 101 

the thread from some of them and had her weav¬ 
ers make a tiny piece of cloth from the thread. 
It was so beautiful that she determined to 
undertake the making of silk on a larger scale. 
She therefore instructed certain men in the care 
of the silk worm and the weavers in the way 
to unwind the silk from the cocoon. 

“Silk-making became a great industry in 
China. When the first silk was carried out of 
China to be sold, it brought a very high price, 
and the Chinese merchants saw at once that the 
silk was going to make China a very rich coun¬ 
try indeed. 

“ ‘Let us go to the Emperor and ask him to 
make laws to protect the sale of silk. If we do 
not the people in all the other countries will 
learn to make it and the people of China will 
not be benefited/ they said. 

“As a result of their visit to the Emperor he 
made a law which said: 

“ ‘Any person who tells anyone in another 
country the secret of how to make silk will be 
put to death immediately/ 

“Then all the scribes wrote it down in all the 
big law books. For hundreds of years the 
Chinese kept the secret. The merchants sold 


102 


OUTDOORLAND 


the silk all over the known world and China 
became very rich. 

“Then one day some monks were talking in 
the garden of a Chinese monastery. T am tired of 
this place’ one of them said, ‘I wish I could go 
away into the great world beyond.’ 

“ ‘Yes, there are many things to see and many 
things to do if one were rich. But we are not 
rich and have no way to become so.’ 

“They were sitting beneath the mulberry trees. 
One of them , looking up saw the cocoon of a silk 
worm in a tree. ‘I have an idea! I tell you 
what let’s do,’ he said. ‘Let’s slip into another 
country and sell the secret of how to make silk.’ 
That very night they slipped out of the monas¬ 
tery and climbed over the high wall which sur¬ 
rounded it. Then they disguised themselves as 
beggars and made their way into Persia. 

“ ‘We know how to make silk,’ they said to the 
merchants of Persia. ‘What will you give us 
for the secret?’ 

“ ‘If you really do know how to make silk we 
will give you much gold for the secret,’ the mer¬ 
chants replied. 

“The monks and the merchants then made a 
contract. The merchants were to place the gold 


The Curious Story of Silk 


103 


on the table and if the monks really told them 
how to make silk they were to have the gold; 
if they did not give the real secret the merchants 
were to take back the gold. 

“The monks agreed to this but when they had 
finished telling the merchants of Persia that 
silk was made from the cocoon of a worm the 
merchants laughed and laughed. 

“ ‘What a tale you have told,’ they said. ‘Of 
course, your story is not true. It is not possible. 
And if it were, how could we make the silk that 
way without the worms?’ 

“Then they gathered up the gold on the table 
and went back to their places of business. The 
monks looked at each other foolishly. They had 
not thought of that. 

“ ‘We will have to go back and get some silk 
worm eggs,’ they said. So they went back into 
China. But they found it very difficult to get 
the eggs and much more difficult to get the eggs 
out of China. All packages and baggage were 
examined and all persons were searched at the 
border. The monks thought and thougnt how 
they could hide the eggs so that the officers 
could not find them. At last they cut two staffs 
from a tree and cut two little holes in them. 


104 


OUTDOORLAND 


Then they put the eggs inside and stopped up 
the holes so that no one could tell they were 
there. When they came to the border the officers 
examined their bundles and searched their 
clothes but they did not think to look at the 
staffs for they did not know they had these little 
holes in them. 

“When the monks reached Persia they hatched 
the eggs in the sun, raised the silkworms and 
showed the Persians how to make silk. Then 
the merchants gave them the gold. 

“The Persians were not so particular as the 
Chinese had been and in time all the world knew 
how to make silk,” Uncle Tom said. 

“There is history in everything, isn’t there, 
Uncle Tom?” William asked thoughtfully when 
the story was finished. 

“Quite true. Even the story of an animal’s 
birth, its growth and gradual change is called 
its life history.” 


VIII 

LUCK, A CHAMPION BUG-CATCHER 

“Now if you want to hear the story of my 
pet toad we must begin. It is time we were 
starting home. It may seem strange for me to 
tell you the story of a toad right after the story 
of the Chinese monks, but I do so because the 
toad, and also the frog, go through these strange 
and unbelievable life changes which the bee, the 
ant, the wasp and the butterfly do. And in con¬ 
nection I want to tell some of the good traits of 
the gardener's friend, Mr. Toad," Uncle Tom 
said. 

“Oh, I do want to hear it. Please excuse me 
for getting off the subject," William said. 

“Once when I was a young boy I was spading 
up the flower bed getting it ready for mother 
to plant the seed for the early Spring flowers. 
As I was driving the spade down deep and 
throwing up the soft earth out of a shovel full 
jumped a gray, warty toad. And before I had 
time to say, ‘Where did you come from?' the 


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Luck, A Champion Bug-Catcher 107 

ugly fellow was hopping toward the pond near- 

‘ by. 

“But it was only a few days afterward that 
I found him in the flower bed again, his face 
wide and grinning, his beautiful eyes gleaming 
brightly. 

“ ‘Well! Well V I said to him, ‘So you are ready 
to go to work are you?’ I did not chase him 
out of the bed because I had been reading about 
toads in a nature book and had learned that 
they work very hard in the gardens. The book 
had told also about a man who tamed toads. So I 
decided that I would make a pet of this one. I 
named him Luck because I thought it good luck 
that he had come into the garden. 

“To make friends with him I scratched his 
back with a long stick. Luck liked the scratch¬ 
ing and showed his appreciation by grunting. 
I also put flies on the end of a long stick and 
wiggled them about in front of him to make 
him think they were alive. Luck always 
snapped them off in a great hurry. When I fed 
him this way I whistled a soft call. Luck soon 
learned that this whistle meant food and would 
come when I called. 

“With no one to play with and with nothing 


108 


OUTDOORLAND 


much to do through the long summer days I 
amused myself watching Luck. In doing so 
I learned a great deal about the habits of toads. 
Early one morning before the sun was hot I 
found Luck out by the chicken house. A little 
chick had died there and the flies were buzzing 
around it in a swarm. Luck was catching the 
flies. I sat down to watch him. He caught the 
flies so quickly and so seldom missed one that 
I was amazed. I wondered so at it that I be¬ 
gan to count them as he caught them. He ate 
one hundred and ten after I began to count. 
Then, as it was growing hot and he was fairly 
full, he hopped off to his cool hole under the 
apple tree to wait until evening before he came 
forth to catch bugs and insects again. 

“ ‘I wonder how Luck can catch bugs and flies 
as he does. He never misses one,’ I said to 
Mother later in the day. 

“ ‘Why don’t you read about toads in the en¬ 
cyclopedia, dear, if your nature book does not 
give it fully? Tell me about it when you have 
done so,’ she replied. 

“I did not read long before I came running 
back to say, ‘0, Mother, the encyclopedia says 
that a toad’s tongue is covered with a sticky 


Luck, A Champion Bug-Catcher 109 


substance like glue, and when the toad’s tongue 
touches anything it sticks to it just like the 
flies stick on the fly paper. The book says also 
that the toad’s tongue is very long and is fas¬ 
tened to the outer rim of its mouth. It says 
that the tongue folds up in its mouth just as 
we fold up a tape measure. Imagine having a 
tongue like that! 

“After that I watched Luck more closely. I 
found that he would eat vast quantities of all 
sorts of insects which destroy the flowers and 
the vegetables, even the vile smelling squash 
bugs. He ate hundreds of them at one sitting. 
He even ate hairy caterpillars. 

“One morning while we were weeding the 
flower beds Mother asked me if I knew what 
baby toads looked like. 

“ ‘Why no, I suppose they look just like larger 
ones only smaller,’ I said between breaths as 
I pulled out a big bunch of grass. 

“Then she told me about the different life 
forms of the toad. I will never forget the 
story. 

“ ‘The early life of the toad is very interest¬ 
ing. The Mother toad spends the whole win¬ 
ter asleep, usually in a hole in the earth. When 


110 


OUTDOORLAND 


the weather begins to grow cold she digs this 
hole and covers herself up snug for her long 
sleep. 

“ ‘In the early Spring the mother toad digs 
herself out and goes into a pond or hole of water 
to lay her eggs. Then she will come back into 
a garden to catch flies if there is one near. The 
warm sun on the water hatches the eggs not 
into little toads but into tadpoles. These tad¬ 
poles have flat tails, but no legs, no eyes and no 
lungs. They breathe through gills as a fish 
does. They eat only plant life. As they grow 
older eyes grow in their heads, four legs de¬ 
velop, the tail disappears, lungs grow in their 
bodies. Then they are toads and eat only bugs 
and insects.’ 

“When the cool days began Luck came less 
frequently when I called. At last he did not 
come at all. I supposed he had gone to make 
a hole in the flower bed. I found him again 
in the Spring but we moved away to another 
state that year and I do not know how many 
summers he stayed in the garden.” 

“Do toads really sleep all winter without eat¬ 
ing or drinking?” William asked. 

“Yes, we call that hibernating. The word 


Luck, A Champion Bug-Catcher 111 

comes from an old Latin word meaning winter. 
Many animals hibernate. But we must talk 
about that another day. It will be late before 
we get home. Mother will wonder what has 
become of us,” he said rising to his feet. 

“Oh I had the best time with Uncle Tom,” 
William said to Mabel that night while Father, 
Uncle Tom and Mother talked together. 

“What did he tell you about?” she asked en¬ 
viously. 

“Wasps and toads and things like that. 

“Ugh,” she said shivering, “I’m glad I wasn’t 
there. I hate bugs and toads.” 

“He is going to tell us about animals that 
sleep all winter and do not eat and drink in 
all that time before long,” William said. 

“Oh, there is no such thing. Why, they would 
starve to death!” she replied. 

“Wait and see if Uncle Tom doesn’t say they 
do. There are a lot of unbelievable things in na¬ 
ture that we don’t know about,” William said. 


IX 

THE STORY OF MOLLY COTTON-TAIL 


Uncle Tom had been gone almost a week. On 
the day that he went Mabel and William held 
on to his arm and begged him not to go. 

“You said you were going to stay with us all 
summer, Uncle Tom,” they pleaded. “Please 
don’t go.” 

“I’m not going to stay away long. I’ll be 
gone just a few days. Before you know it, I 
shall be back. You’ll have time to work on 
your scrap books while I’m gone. May be one 
of you can finish before I get back. If you do, 
we shall have the grand ceremony of awarding 
the prize. Maybe I shall have something nice 
to tell you when I come back. Turn me loose, 
now, you rascals,” he said, laughing as he 
pulled away from them. “Don’t you hear your 
father saying, ‘Hurry, Tom?”’ 

Uncle Tom’s going away had been rather 
mysterious. He had gone into town one morn¬ 
ing with Father and when he came back he 
had called Mother into the study and they had 
( 112 ) 


The Story op Molly Cotton-tail 113 

shut the door and talked for a long time. And 
when Mabel and William had asked questions 
Mother had said, “Uncle Tom was discussing 
an important matter of business with me. You 
must not ask questions about what does not 
concern you.” 

A few nights later William had said, “Let’s 
have a picnic tomorrow evening, Uncle Tom.” 
To this Uncle Tom had replied, “I can’t, Bill.' 
I’m going up to St. Louis for a few days.” He 
hadn’t said a word about going before that 
time. Naturally the children had wondered 
and wondered. 

William and Mabel missed their uncle ter¬ 
ribly. To fill up the time they worked at their 
scrap books. Mother helped them with some 
of the names and they had found some in the 
nature books. They mounted those flowers that 
none of them knew and left out the names until 
Uncle Tom’s return. 

William and Mabel did not work together 
of course. Nor did they show each other their 
scrap books. Both were working for the prize. 
Neither knew how many flowers the other had. 
William worked longer at his book and Mabel 
went oftener to the fields to gather flowers. 


114 OUTDOORLAND 

Even Mother did not know who was ahead in 
the contest. 

On the day before Uncle Tom was expected 
home the children worked on their books all 
afternoon. They were on the porch so far 
apart that neither could see what the other 
was doing but they were close enough to carry 
on a conversation. 

“What do you suppose Uncle Tom went to 
St. Louis for, William?” asked Mabel. 

“I don’t know, but I bet he is going to bring 
home a bear or a buffalo,” said William, past¬ 
ing away. 

“Oh, I’m sure he’s not. What would he do 
that for? What would we do with a bear and 
a buffalo? I think he’s gone up there to see 
some old man about specimens.” 

“Well, he said he might have something nice 
to tell us when he came back. What would be 
nicer than a pet bear or a little buffalo? What 
would be nice about old specimens?” 

“If he were going to bring home a bear and 
a buffalo, he would have said he’d have some¬ 
thing nice to show us, not tell us. He wouldn’t 
need to tell us about them if he had them with 
him. I don’t know what he went for but I’m 


The Story of Molly Cotton-tail 115 

sure it’s not that,” Mabel said, selecting a 
flower from those in her glass of water. 

“I guess we shall know when he comes to¬ 
morrow,” William said. 

But when Uncle Tom came the next day he 
didn’t tell them anything. He only said to 
Mother, “Have you heard?” 

“Not yet,” she replied. 

Mabel and William wanted to ask questions 
but Mother had forbidden them to do so. 
“When Uncle Tom wants you to know, he will 
tell you,” she said. 

After lunch, before Father went back to the 
field, Uncle Tom called the two into the study. 

“Come here, children, and bring your books. 
Let’s see who is winner of the prize,” said 
Uncle Tom. 

Uncle Tom laid the scrap books side by side 
on the table. He turned a page of one and then 
a page of the other. 

“This is nice. That’s well done, many speci¬ 
mens, a good idea. This is interesting,” he 
said, half talking to himself. 

Mabel and William waited quietly, if a bit 
breathlessly, for his decision. 

At last he closed the books. 


116 


OUTDOORLAND 


“Go, call your Father and Mother/’ he said. 
“And we will award the prize money.” 

Father and Mother came in and took their 
seats. Mabel and William sat on the edge of 
their chairs and waited eagerly. Uncle Tom 
arose and began to speak. 

“Mr. William and Miss Mabel,” he said in 
a very dignified manner. “You have done very 
well. You have learned much about wild 
flowers. Wherever you see them growing after 
this you will enjoy them more because you 
know something about them. I offered a prize 
but I find it very difficult to decide who shall 
receive it. Mabel has more specimens. 1 could 
hardly believe there were so many wild 
flowers in our woods as she has in her book. 
William’s book is a delight to the eye. His 
specimens are beautifully mounted. His writ¬ 
ten work is carefully and neatly done. It is 
a very fine thing to be thorough and do well 
whatever you attempt to do. This being true,” 
—Mabel’s heart sank within her. She thought 
she had surely lost. “I shall award a prize of 
one dollar to each of you,” he concluded and 
handed each of them a silver dollar. 

“Now, let’s go down to the fish pond and 


The Story of Molly Cotton-tail 117 

spend the afternoon. I saw Molly Cotton-tail 
go bouncing across the road as we came out 
this morning and I remembered that I hadn't 
told you a thing about that interesting lady,* 1 
he said, putting aside his dignified manner and 
reaching for his old hat as he returned the bear 
hugs Mabel and William were giving him. 

“You know, of course, that if you are driving 
on the country roads in the spring time when 
the first little green leaves are peeping forth 
and the cherry trees in the orchard and the 
red bud in the forests are full of blossoms you 
will see many rabbits," Uncle Tom said as they 
walked through the wood lot on the way to the 
fish pond. “They bounce across the road in 
front of you and dart into a hiding place in 
the bushes nearby. This rabbit is a little 
brown fellow with a short tail that looks like 
a bunch of cotton. That is why these rabbits 
are called ‘Cotton-tail’ rabbits. All the mother 
rabbits are called Molly Cotton-tail. 

“Once upon a time a Molly Cotton-tail and 
her little boy rabbit, Sammy, lived in the 
brier patch on the Caldwell place. The brier 
bushes were good friends to the cotton-tail 
family. They protected the rabbits. When the 


118 


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dogs, the coyotes, the hawks and other enemies 
chased them, Molly Cotton-tail and Sammy 
scampered to the runway which they had cut 
under the brier bushes and were safe. The 
hawks could not fly through the tangles, and 
when the dogs or the coyotes tried to break 
through the sharp briers, the briers tore their 
ears so painfully that they were glad to go 
away and leave Molly and her little boy rabbit 
alone. 

“Of course Molly and Sammy did not stay in 
the brier patch all the time. They travelled 
around the wood pasture, up and down the 
creek, and even to the cow lot when life grew 
a little dull and they wished to see other an¬ 
imals. 

“It was at these times that Sammy received 
his education. Rabbits have no voice but they 
can make one another understand by signs, by 
scents, by whisker touches, by thumping on the 
ground with their feet, by movements and by 
examples. Naturalists have watched the rab¬ 
bits for years and they are sure that this is 
true. Therefore, even if Sammy was not told 
what to do in words, he was made to under¬ 
stand what was expected of him. 


The Story of Molly Cotton-tail 119 

“First of all Sammy was taught to lie very 
still. The old saying ‘still as a mouse’ could 
have been ‘still as a rabbit’ because Sammy was 
so very still that no animal or person could 
know that he was there unless they caught his 
scent. The animals are colored like the things 
of nature so that a little brown rabbit against 
a brown brier patch or a brown log cannot 
be seen unless he is moving. Mother Nature 
gives her children this color protection. 

“The second lesson Sammy learned was to 
‘freeze.’ Not to freeze with cold but to stop 
so quickly and to be so still that he seemed 
to be frozen. 

“The third lesson was to trail by scent. His 
mother usually left him in the brier patch and 
went through the wood. Then she circled about 
for a while and gave a thump on the ground 
with her hind leg. This thump meant ‘Come 
to me.’ With his nose Sammy had to find 
where she was. It was not easy at first. He 
made mistakes and had to begin all over again, 
sometimes several times. But at last he did 
find her. The two rabbits practiced this les¬ 
son over and over, many, many times. 

“In this way Sammy’s education went on; 


120 


OUTDOORLAND 


not from books at all, as you see, but from his 
mother who taught him all she knew. Some of 
the difficult tricks were used to outwit Rover, 
the farm-house dog. Molly used these tricks 
only when she was forced to do so, but Sammy, 
who was young and liked a chase, often ran in 
front of Rover and started the game. 

“If Rover had had a little more sense he 
could have caught Sammy one day. It was the 
first cool day of early fall. Sammy was feel¬ 
ing fine and thought he would like a race. 
When he saw Rover coming down by the fence 
he ran in front of the dog. Rover took up the 
chase of course. After Sammy had run 
straight for a while and let Rover think he 
almost had his prey, Sammy darted through 
the brier bushes and under the low barb wire 
on the other side of the brier patch. Rover 
slashed his ears on the briers until they bled. 
These wounds hurt him cruelly but he kept on 
trying to catch Sammy just the same. 

“Sammy was safe enough where he was but 
he had not had enough of running. He slipped 
out of his hiding place, gave Rover a look at him, 
doubled back on his trail and made a loop. 
Then he zig-zagged. By this time he was so 


The Story of Molly Cotton-tail 121 

tired that he thumped on the ground for his 
mother to come and help him out. 

“Molly had very little patience with these 
just-for-fun chases, but she was so afraid that 
Rover would catch her son sometime that she 
always went and helped Sammy out, Molly 
heard Sammy’s call for help and ran out in 
front of Rover to lead him off Sammy’s scent. 
Of course Rover took out after her immediate¬ 
ly. When she thought Sammy was safe again 
she darted back into the brier patch. 

“When Rover lost Molly’s trail he started back 
to the house. He was tired and his ears hurt. 
He wanted to lie down in the shade of the 
house and go to sleep. But, on his way home, 
he picked up Sammy’s scent again. Sammy 
was afraid Rover would do this so he had 
jumped off the ground and up on a high log. 
Here he had wound himself into a little ball 
and had lain down just on the every end of it. 
He looked exactly like a knot on the log itself. 

“Rover came sniffing around on the ground 
under the log but the trail was old and he 
could not be sure. The dog even jumped upon 
the log and went part of the way up it. 

“‘It smells rabbity,’ he said to himself. ‘But 


122 


OUTDOORLAND 


it is plain to be seen that no rabbit is on this 
log. A rabbit certainly could not be hiding 
behind that bump on the end of the log. It is 
too small to hide anything. My ears are hurt¬ 
ing me so that I think I shall go home and 
come back and chase the little fool another day. 
ril get him yet/ 

“When Rover left Sammy jumped down and 
went back to the brier patch where he had a 
nice long nap.” 

“Sometimes I think that animals and insects 
have almost as much sense as people, don’t you, 
Uncle Tom?” asked William thoughtfully when 
his uncle had finished. 

“Sometimes I think they have more,” Uncle 
Tom replied. “The rabbit we have been speak¬ 
ing of is the common little rabbit seen, as I 
have said, along our country roads. There are 
many kinds of these animals. There is the 
snow-shoe rabbit, whose feet are wide like 
snow-shoes; the jack rabbit which has very 
long ears and is very fleet; the Arctic hare that 
is snowy white except the tips of the ears 
which are black. The rabbit is a gentle little 
creature with soft eyes but he is a very bad 
pest also. He eats the vegetables from the gar- 


The StorjT of Molly Cotton-tail 123 


dens and the bark from the fruit trees. If 
we did not kill them out they would gradually 
destroy all the fruit and the vegetables in the 
world. 

“There’s another good story, but a very old 
one, about the rabbit. It tells how he lost his 
tail. Do you want to hear it?” 

“Of course,” both children replied in the 
same breath. 

“Well, once upon a time, long, long ago the 
rabbit’s tail was long like the squirrel’s,” 
Uncle Tom began, stretching himself out on the 
long grass by the willow tree near the fish 
pond. “He lost it by his own trickery. 

“One day, while he was sitting on the edge 
of the swamp, the rabbit saw some nice juicy 
plants on the other side. He wanted them 
very much but he could not get across the 
swamp. There was no bridge and the kind of 
rabbit he was cannot swim. As he stood there 
looking at the nice plants and thinking how 
hungry he was, an old alligator stuck his head 
out of the water. 

“ T might ask him to take me over,’ the rab¬ 
bit said to himself. ‘But he probably would not 
do it for he thinks himself too great to do fa- 












































The Story of Molly Cotton-tail 125 

vors. He is proud and haughty because he can 
both swim and walk. Perhaps I can play a 
trick and make him take me over. I shall try 
anyway.’ 

“ ‘Good morning, friend/ said the alligator to 
the rabbit. ‘It is very warm this morning. 
Why don’t you come into the water and cool 
off?’ 

“Now the alligator knew very well that this 
kind of rabbit did not go into the water at 
all. He said this only to tease. 

“‘Oh, I’m not so warm,’ the rabbit replied. 
‘But I am hungry. You see, there are so many 
rabbits in the world that it is hard for them 
all to find food. There are hundreds and hun¬ 
dreds of rabbits in the world. Now, there are 
not so many alligators, so of course you can 
find food enough.’ 

“ ‘How foolish you are,’ said the alligator an¬ 
grily. ‘Certainly there are more alligators in 
the world than there are rabbits. Why, there 
are thousands and thousands of alligators. 
More than a hundred alligators live in these 
swamps. Can you find me a hundred rabbits 
in the woods near by? Of course not!’ 

“ ‘To be sure I can,’ said the rabbit. ‘We will 


126 


OUTDOORLAND 


just count and see who has most. I shall count 
the alligators and you can count the rabbits. 
You can call all the alligators together and 
form a line across the swamp. I will hop on 
their backs and as I do so, I will count them. 
When I have finished I will call all the rabbits 
together and you can count them/ 

“The alligator agreed to the plan. When he 
called all the alligators came. The big ones 
and the little ones, the old ones and the young 
ones lined themselves up across the swamp. 

“‘Now, count them!’ the big alligator said 
proudly. ‘If there are not more than a hun¬ 
dred you may eat me!’ 

“The little rabbit hopped from one to the 
other counting, ‘one, two, three . . .’ until he 
counted more than a hundred. By the time he 
counted so high he was across the swamp. 

“ ‘I’ll call the rabbits some other day when I 
am not so hungry. Just now I must get my 
dinner/ he said, laughing as if his side would 
split. 

“Then he turned away to eat his nice juicy 
plants. But he was not quick enough. As he 
turned the big alligator reached out, grabbed 
him by the tail and bit it off. This frightened 


The Story of Molly Cotton-tail 127 

the rabbit so much that the tail never grew out 
again and the poor little rabbit has had a very 
short tail ever since.” 




X 


NUTCRACKER, THE SQUIRREL, AND 
DANNY, THE PRAIRIE DOG 

“Of course that is not a true story but these 
little fellows are very clever,” Uncle Tom said. 
“The squirrel is no less clever than the rabbit. 
Before I went away last week I had a great 
time watching Mr. Nutcracker, the red squir¬ 
rel. It was the day you went to town with 
your Mother and I had no one to entertain 
me. 

“Mr. Nutcracker was taking his early morn¬ 
ing exercise under his home in the pecan tree 
when Fritz saw him. Bounding across the yard 
like a white ball, our little Spitz gave chase to 
the squirrel. 

“Nutcracker, cut off from his home, ran down 
the road and up the oak tree. From a leafy 
limb he scolded Fritz fiercely. If we could 
have understood squirrel talk we should have 
heard him say: 

“'Why do you chase me, you bad dog? I 
wasn’t harming you. I was only playing 


(128) 


Nutcracker, the Squirrel 129 

around on the ground. It is no use for you to 
sit on your haunches and look up at me. I 
will not come down until you go away. I can 
stay up in this tree just as long as you stay 
underneath it. I am at home here. I have been 
here many times before. Even if you call out 
a man with a gun I am not afraid, at least not 
very much. For I can run into a hole farther 
up in the tree or I can dodge around the trunk 
of the tree faster than the man can walk 
around it/ 

“ 'There is dew on the leaves of this tree and 
I can drink it. I am not hungry for I have had 
my breakfast of nice pecan nuts. I have many 
nuts stored away in the tree where I live. I 
have enough to last all winter and I have many 
more nuts stored away in other places. I shall, 
no doubt, forget where I have buried many of 
them but even so, they will come up and make 
trees for other little squirrels to live in and 
for little puppies to lie down under and bark 
up at the squirrels. Go away! Go away! You 
bad Fritz!’ 

“‘If you would not chase me we could be 
friends for I am a friendly fellow. I lived on 
the other side of this farm before I came over 


130 


OUTDOORLAND 


here. Neighbor Jones loved me. I ate from his 
hand and sat on his shoulder. He played the 
guitar for me often. The music was so lovely 
that I even forgot to eat when he played. Once 
I was eating when he began. I listened so hard 
I dropped my nut. I tried to sing as he did but 
all the noise I could make was a purring one like 
that the cat makes/ 

“ ‘Oh, what a din you make barking like that! 
Go away! Go away! Dogs are so silly/ 

“At last I called Fritz to come away from the 
tree. When he had done so Nutcracker came 
down from the oak and ran, swiftly and quietly, 
back to his home in the pecan tree. It was grow¬ 
ing late for the sun was high in the sky and it 
was time for Nutcracker to go to bed and sleep. 
He and his family rise very early, but in the 
heat of the day they go to bed and rest and 
sleep.” 

“Do you know any more stories about any 
other furry little animals, Uncle Tom?” Mabel 
asked as she nestled close to her uncle. 

“There are many of these little fellows, 
dear. They all belong to the same family. A 
little friend out in one of the Rocky Moun¬ 
tain towns where I used to visit owned a 


Nutcracker, the Squirrel 131 

prairie dog. Some one had caught a few of 
these bright little animals and had brought 
them there to sell. Eileen’s father bought this 
one for her. The chance to get a prairie dog 
for a pet is rare even in that western country 
where there are so many. In spite of the fact, 
that they are very easily tamed they are very 
hard to catch. They live in what we call 
prairie dog towns. Each family lives in a 
‘house.’ This house is a very deep hole in the 
ground, warm and snug in the winter, sweet 
and cool in summer. Some say that these 
holes connect underground and that the little 
fellows visit from hole to hole whenever they 
wish. Some say also that each town has a well 
where all the dogs get water but so far as I 
know no one has dug down to see whether or 
not this is true. 

“Prairie dogs look much like squirrels only 
they do not have long bushy tails. They have 
a very charming way of sitting on their hind 
legs with their heads cocked on one side to 
watch the people go by. But let anyone come 
too close and like a dart of lightning, with a 
‘goodbye, I’ve business to attend to’ manner, 
they whirl into the deep hole they occupy. The 








































Nutcracker, the Squirrel 133 

only way to catch them is to fill that hole with 
water. The animals will then come to the top 
with the water to keep from drowning. Once 
caught, the prairie dog makes friends quickly. 

“Eileen named the little pet Danny and tied 
him with a string to the post at the side of the 
house. Here he had a nice shade, a box to go 
into and flowers all about to make his home 
beautiful. The first thing he did, however, was 
to cut down all the flowers he could reach. He 
did not do this because he was naughty but 
because there are no tall bushes or weeds on 
the prairie and he wanted to feel at home. 
When he had all the flowers cut down, Danny 
began to dig his house. But he was never too 
busy to come when Eileen called him. He 
loved her very much and the place he liked to 
sit the very best of all was on her shoulder. 
Here he could reach over and lick her face in 
a prairie dog kiss. 

“Jesse came over one day to play. He was 
only five and Eileen was ten, but Jesse thought 
himself quite as large and as important as she. 
Eileen did not like for him to come to see her 
for he was not kind to her pets. He poked 
Bunny, the white rabbit, with a long stick 


134 


OUTDOORLAND 


through the bars of the pen. He shook the 
cage of the little yellow canary bird when no 
one was looking. Jesse even broke up Eileen’s 
toys, but, because he was just a little boy, 
Eileen tried to be nice to him. 

“The first thing Jesse wanted to do on this 
particular day was to play with Danny. But 
Danny was what we call a 'one man dog.’ He 
loved no one but Eileen. Generally speak¬ 
ing prairie dogs will love all who are kind to 
them but Danny did not. 

“Eileen was nice to Jesse. She held Danny 
for him and let him stroke the animal’s 
soft fur. She set the little prairie dog 
on her shoulder for Jesse to see him kiss 
her. She made Danny do all his little tricks 
for Jesse. Then she said 'Let’s leave him alone 
now for he wants to dig on his house. Come, 
and I’ll show you a new story book.’ 

“ 'No,’ said Jesse. 'I want to hold him and 
let him sit on my shoulder.’ 

“ 'He will bite you if you do, Jesse. Danny 
does not like to be held as tightly as you hold 
him and he loves no one but me. Come on, 
now, and look at the new story book,’ Eileen 
said. 


Nutcracker, the Squirrel 135 

“Jesse went but he dragged his feet sullenly 
and stuck out his lip angrily. He was in a 
very bad humor. He soon said he must go 
home. Eileen went down and opened the big 
gate for him and waved goodbye to him. No 
sooner had she gone into the house to sew for 
her doll than Jesse came back, climbed over the 
fence and went around the house to where 
Danny was digging his home. There he called 
‘Danny, Danny’ as much like Eileen as he 
could. Danny, thinking his friend was calling, 
came running out. Jesse caught him quickly 
and began to squeeze him fiercely and to pull 
his ears. 

“Danny was not without weapons. He wrig¬ 
gled his little body about so that he could get 
to Jesse. Then he seized the boy’s finger in his 
little teeth and bit just as hard as he could. 
When Jesse screamed and Eileen ran to see 
what the matter was she found Danny peering 
out of his hole, his eyes twinkling merrily at 
the yelling Jesse. 

“Many of these furry little creatures lay up 
stores of food for winter, a time when they 
do not come out of their holes at all. They 
only sleep and eat then. Some of them sleep 


136 


OUTDOORLAND 


all the winter through and do not eat at all. 
As I have told you before, we call this hiber¬ 
nating. I think I shall stop here and tell you 
more than I have done before about this habit 
of the animals.” 



XI 


THE CHAMPION SLEEPERS OF 
ANIMALDOM 

“In the cold countries and even in the tem¬ 
perate zones where we have more or less cold 
weather everything that the animals and in¬ 
sects eat is destroyed in the winter time. If 
these animals had to eat as we do, three times 
a day, they would starve to death in the win¬ 
ter. But Nature takes care of the situation. 
She puts the animals to sleep until spring 
comes around again. The animals find them¬ 
selves holes either in caves or in tree trunks; 
the reptiles and toads dig into the earth; the 
frogs and the turtles sink into the mud of the 
streams; the snails seal up their houses; and 
all of them go fast asleep. They neither eat 
nor drink sometimes for many months. Dur¬ 
ing this time their breathing is very gentle, 
the heart beats get slower and slower, the 
heat of the body goes down to just a little 
above the freezing point; the digestive organs 
stop; and the body subsists on its own fat. 

(137) 


138 


OUTDOORLAND 


When it is spring again the animals awaken 
and find themselves usually very thin and very 
hungry.” 

“I should think so. Imagine having to do 
without food for months!” said William in as¬ 
tonishment. 

“Some animals sleep through the summer in¬ 
stead of through the winter,” Uncle Tom con¬ 
tinued. “This habit is called ‘Estivation.’ 
This word comes from the Latin word meaning 
summer. In the Tropics when it becomes very 
hot and dry, many animals, alligators, snakes, 
turtles, sleep through the summer. 

“Scientists have, very probably, made better 
observation of the bear after hibernation than 
of any other animal. Sometimes the bear digs 
himself a den. Sometimes he finds an old 
mine tunnel and uses that for a bed, but. when¬ 
ever he goes to sleep he sleeps right through 
until spring unless some one digs him out. 
Then, if he escapes, he will return to his bed 
when the human invaders have gone away. 
When he awakes in the spring he eats and 
eats, everything he can find.” 

“Do you know that I wish I could hibernate 
in the winter, Uncle Tom? I certainly hate 


The Champion Sleepers of Animaldom 139 

to get up on a cold morning and go to school,” 
William said. 

"No doubt you do, but think of all you would 
miss if you slept three months,” Uncle Tom 
said, laughing merrily. "I had an experience 
with a grizzly family last summer while I 
was camping in the Yellowstone. But before 
I tell you about that I will tell you something 
of the nature of these bears. When* they are 
full grown the grizzly bears are sometimes 
nine feet long. The grizzly is of a dark brown 
color. He is a tremendous eater. He has an 
appetite for everything; buds and foliage from 
the trees, berries and fruits of all kinds, mo¬ 
lasses, sugar, honey, ants, worms, and insects. 
He will also kill other animals and eat them. 
He is very fond of fish and is a splendid fish¬ 
erman.” 

"A fisherman, Uncle Tom! Where does he 
get his hooks?” William asked eagerly. 

"Oh, he doesn’t need a hook,” Uncle Tom 
replied. "He just goes down by the bank of 
a stream and when the fish comes into the 
shallow water, he flips them out on the bank, 
quick as a wink, with his paw.” 


140 


OUTDOORLAND 


The children looked at each other as if the 
story were beyond belief. 

“Bears are not hard to tame if captured 
when they are young. Many of the trappers 
have pet cubs. Bears are very clever. Per¬ 
haps they are the cleverest and the most in¬ 
telligent of all the animals. Sometimes they 
can outwit even the most experienced hunters. 

“There are many bears in the Yellowstone 
Park. They are quite gentle there. They 
come up to the hotels and visit the tourists 
often enough, sometimes too often. The 
United States Government does not allow 
anyone to harm them and the animals seem 
to know it. 

“These bears are really entirely too famil¬ 
iar. I had a big sack of sugar with me when 
I went into the park last year. I like sugar 
in my coffee.about as well as Bill likes an all 
day sucker. My sack was my winter supply 
of that delicacy. I knew the bears would be 
after that sugar, but I thought I could hide it 
from them. The first night I was in the park 
I raised the hood of the Ford and set my sack 
inside down by the engine. I thought they 
could not get it there. But in the night I 


The Champion Sleepers of Animaldom 141 

heard a noise and when I went to see what it 
was an old bear had unfastened the catches 
of the hood and was raising it up. She had 
the sack in her paw and was about to escape 
when I came up to her, but I frightened her 
so much she dropped it and ran away. The 
next day I climbed up a tree and hung my 
precious sack away out on a small limb. In 
the night I heard a noise again. When I rose 
from my bed what do you suppose I saw? 
An old mother bear was at, the foot of the 
tree talking to a young cub who was crawling 
out on the limb after my sack. Do you sup¬ 
pose she could have been telling him not to 
fall but to be sure and get the sack?” 

“Of course,” the children said. 

“I think so too,” Uncle Tom said. “Well, to 
continue my story, the next day I took my 
sack up to the hotel and asked the cook to keep 
it for me until I was ready to go where the 
bears were not so friendly. 

“The cutest thing I ever saw a little bear do 
was once when I was watching a group of 
bears root around a camping place after the 
campers had gone on. A cub found a meat skin 
and seized it with glee. Now the meat skin 

















































The Champion Sleepers of Animaldom 148 

is as good to them as an ice cream cone is to 
you. They like it better than anything. When 
the little cub found this skin he looked all 
around to see if any of the other bears had 
seen him find it and then he ran behind a tree 
to eat his dainty morsel. And every time he 
thought he heard the other bears coming 
toward him, he would sit on the meat. skin. 
When he was sure that he was mistaken and 
that none of the bears were coming he would 
take the meat skin out from under him and 
eat it. Don’t tell me these bears do not rea¬ 
son. I wish I had time to tell you more about 
the bear, but to tell all about them would take 
a long, long time. The brown bear is a native 
of Europe and Asia. It, has been wiped out in 
the British Isles. The meat of this bear is 
sometimes used for food. The black bear is 
found in North America. The black bear pre¬ 
fers vegetables but will eat small animals if 
very hungry. The grizzly is much larger and 
much fiercer than the black bear. The largest 
of the bears is the polar bear. It is white and 
lives in the far north and is usually found 
near the sea. You have perhaps seen bears 
led around by foreigners who make them 


144 


OUTDOORLAND 


dance for a few pennies. This is the gentle 
long-lipped bear of the East Indies which is 
so easily tamed. Down in South America in 
the Andes there is the spectacled bear which 
is black except two semi-circular marks above 
its eyes. These bears I have mentioned are 
not all by any manner of means.” 



XII 

A BUILDER OF DAMS 

''But there is another animal I want to tell 
you about before we go back to the house. I 
think the beaver is my favorite animal. One 
built a dam year before last in the little 
stream that runs right by my cabin door. One 
morning when I awoke I was very much sur¬ 
prised to find the beginnings of the dam there. 
That night I hid in the bushes and watched 
them work. And how they worked. 

“The beaver builds his round mud house in 
the water. To hide it from trappers he must 
have deep water. When the water is not deep 
enough he builds a dam and makes it deep 
enough.” 

“What does he make the dam from, Uncle 
Tom?” asked William, who had made dams 
in the little brooks and knew how hard it was 
to make one that would hold the water back. 

“They usually make them of slender green 
aspen poles. Instead of laying them across the 
stream, they put them up and down the stream 

( 145 ) 


146 


OUTDOORLAND 


and fasten them down with sticks, stones, 
grass, brush and earth. Their dams are very 
strong.” 

“Where do they get the little green poles 
from?” Mabel asked. 

“They cut down little aspen trees with their 
teeth and drag them to the water. When the 
trees are too heavy for them to drag all the 
way, they dig a canal and turn the water into 
it. By means of this canal they float the trees 
to where they want them. 

“Now, if you wish, I shall be glad to tell you 
about the hard time my friend Diver and his 
colony of beavers had up on Pearl lake one 
summer.” 

“Oh, do, Uncle Tom.” 

“One summer I was camping up near the 
lake. It was very high up in the Rockies 
about eight thousand feet above the sea. A 
number of beavers lived in this lake. I named 
one of them ‘Diver* because he jumped into 
the lake more like a human being dives than 
a beaver does. 

“There had been very little rain that year 
and one of the men who lived farther down 
the mountain needed water for his fish ponds. 





































































































































































































































148 


OUTDOORLAND 


So he sent a man up to cut the banks of Pearl 
Lake and make the water run down to his fish 
ponds. But the water ran only a little time 
after the lake was cut. When the man went 
back to see why the water had stopped run¬ 
ning he found that the beavers had dammed 
up the hole where the water was running out. 
He cut the place open again. When he went 
away the beavers stopped it up again. Three 
times he cut it open. Three times the beavers 
stopped it up again. 

“The fourth time the man cut it open he set 
a trap in the water. Two beavers were caught 
in the trap and drowned while trying to free 
themselves. The other beavers stopped up the 
hole with the dead beavers and the trap. 
When he came back he was so angry that he 
cut, the hole open again and sat down to guard 
it. He shot the first beaver that came up. 
Then he dropped asleep. While he was asleep 
the beavers stopped up the hole. So the man 
found that he had to guard the hole every min¬ 
ute to keep it open. 

“But of course the man conquered in the long 
run and the lake was drained. Xhen the 
beavers had to move out. 


A Builder of Dams 


149 


“This year just before I left the mountains 
I went up to Pearl Lake. There had been a 
great deal of rain and Pearl Lake was full 
again. I found that the beavers had come back 
so I hid in the bushes to watch them. While 
I was watching, I saw Old Diver crawl out 
on the bank and give his long dive into the 
water. He had come home!” 

Mabel and William had been so interested 
that they had not interrupted Uncle Tom 
once. But when he had finished William said 
thoughtfully, “I think when I grow up I’ll be 
a naturalist. I believe it will be fun.” 

Uncle Tom smiled to himself; what William 
said filled into his plans perfectly but he did 
not reply. He only said, “It is growing late 
now and we must be thinking of going back 
to the house. There are so many curious and 
interesting things about the animals that we 
could never finish all the stories about them. 
I hope you will read more and more about 
them as you grow older. Some animals are 
very intelligent. A knowledge of them and 
their habits makes us know there is a loving 
Creator. The very way the animals cure them- 


150 OUTDOORLAND 

selves when sick is most astonishing and in¬ 
credible. 

“Did you ever see a cat or dog eat grass? 
Usually they eat meat, but now and then you 
will see one eating grass. They are always 
sick when they do this. The grass is their 
medicine.” 

“How do they know what grass to eat, Uncle 
Tom?” Mabel asked. 

“We do not know. Animals have known 
what grass to eat since time began, we sup¬ 
pose. 

“The strange thing is that men learned what 
plants to make medicine from by watching the 
animals and seeing which ones they used to 
cure themselves. 

“Animals also have other ways of healing 
themselves. An old bear with rheumatism will 
bathe in the waters of a hot spring to cure his 
aching joints. Some animals know what weeds 
to eat to cure snake bite. A deer knows that 
sleeping in the snow will take the ache out 
of his tired legs. A coon, whose foot has been 
shattered by a bullet, will cut it off with his 
teeth and wash the stump in running water. 
This cleanses it and keeps down fever. As it 


A Builder of Dams 


151 


heals he licks it with his tongue, over and 
over, to stop the pain and the swelling. 

“Animals caught in traps will throw their 
bodies in such a way that they will break the 
bone of the limb that is caught in the trap. 
Then they cut that limb off and escape. After 
they have escaped they will cover the injured 
limb with some sticky substance like clay to 
keep out the dirt and air. Bears will plug a 
wound with mud to keep it clean and protect 
it from the flies. 

<r But the strangest story of all is that one told 
me by a naturalist, who said that he caught 
a bird once which had set its broken leg. 

“He said he was gunning one day with a 
friend when they shot a woodcock which, on 
being brought in by the dog, was found to have 
a lump of hard clay on one of its legs. Curious 
to know what it meant he chipped the clay off 
with his pen knife and found a broken bone 
which was then almost as straight as ever. 
This naturalist says that snipe as well as the 
woodcock are able to set their own broken 
legs. Is it not strange that the wild folk know 
these things? 

“Come, let’s be going now,” Uncle Tom said, 


152 OUTDOORLAND 

rising from his grassy bed and shaking down 
his trousers. 

The children were very quiet as they walked 
back to the house. Uncle Tom was quiet also 
as he held the hand of his little kinsfolk as 
if he wished never to turn them loose. 

The birds were circling around, here and 
there, flying low, and swinging high, as they 
do just before they go to roost. 

“I haven’t told you any bird stories have I?” 
Uncle Tom asked. “Well, I must before I go.” 

“Before you go?” William and Mabel cried 
in alarm, running around in front of him. 
“Oh, Uncle Tom, you aren’t going away 
again?” 

“I almost told you our secret then before I 
thought, didn’t I?” he said. 

The children had quite forgotten there was 
to be a secret told them. But reminded of it 
by Uncle Tom, they begged and teased for him 
to tell them. It was the next day, however, 
before they knew the wonderful and interest¬ 
ing truth. 


XIII 

SONG BIRDS AND SECRETS 


Mabel and William were up at dawn the 
next morning. Uncle William had suggested 
the night before that they arise early. 

“Early morning is the most peaceful time 
of the day. There is a sweet cleanliness about 
the dawn that is not present at any other hour. 
The birds are awake and busily flitting about. 
The robin sings his love song then and I have 
heard a cardinal give forth his roundelay at 
that hour also. Let us get up early and watch 
to see how many birds are in the big pecan and 
the oak tree where Nutcracker has his home,” 
Uncle Tom had said. “I know a few inter¬ 
esting stories about birds which I will try to 
remember and tell you in the morning.” 

“You call us then, Uncle Tom,” Mabel had 
said. 

Therefore it was that two sleepy little chil¬ 
dren and the wide awake, eager man met in 
the early morning. 

“There is Mr. Robin. Good morning, sir,” 

( 153 ) 


154 OUTDOORLAND 

Uncle Tom said, making a bow to the lovely 
bird. 

“I love the robin/' he continued. “See, he 
trusts us for he does not fly away at our ap¬ 
proach. And he sets his head on one side and 
looks at us curiously as if to say, ‘You're up 
early, aren't you?' Our American robin is 
named for the English robin redbreast al¬ 
though our bird is not so brilliantly colored 
as that handsome fellow. The robin makes a 
very queer nest,. The inside, formed from clay, 
is like a little pot. Mr. Robin is a very en¬ 
thusiastic builder. He will make several of 
these nests even though he knows he can use 
but one. He is a nice singer with a song for 
every occasion; one for the dawn, one to woo 
his mate with, and one to soothe her to sleep 
in the early evening. There is a nice story 
about how the robin redbreast helped to cure 
a little, sick princess. 

“Long, long ago, it was arranged by the old 
heads of two foreign countries that the little 
prince of one of those countries should at some 
future time marry the little princess of the 
other country. It was the custom in those days, 
when such an arrangement was made, for the 


Song Birds and Secrets 155 

little princess to be brought to the land of the 
little prince years before the marriage was to 
take place in order that, she might learn the 
language and grow up to be like those in the 
country in which she was to live. According 
to this custom, the little princess was brought 
to the land of the little prince when she was 
but, a child. 

“Now it so happened that the little princess 
was very unhappy in the new land. She 
missed her little brothers and sisters and most 
of all she missed her dear mother. Indeed, it 
seems a very cruel thing to take a small nine 
year old girl, even if she is a princess, away 
from her own country, her home and her peo¬ 
ple into a strange land where she can not 
speak the language and where no one loves 
her. In fact, it was so contrary to what is 
natural and right that the princess pined and 
pined until she fell ill. In spite of the fact 
that many physicians were called in to see her 
she grew steadily worse. 

“Now for many years a pair of robins had 
nested near the window where the nurses had 
placed the bed of the princess. When the robins 
returned this spring they were shocked to see 
































































































































































































































































































Song Birds and Secrets 157 

a little girl look so pale and wan. Mother 
Robin worried and worried about her. Finally 
she said one day, ‘Father, please go over and 
say something to cheer up that little girl/ 

“‘I would go gladly/ Father Robin said, ‘But 
I don’t know any human words.’ 

“ ‘Well, the human word “Cheer up” is not 
very hard. Let’s practice it,’ said Mother 
Robin. 

“And the two birds practiced it day after 
day. At last, Father Robin thought he could 
say it. He flew over to the window and down 
on the sill. ‘Cheer up! Cheer up!’ he said, 
just as plain as a person could say it. The 
little princess turned to look. Her eyes bright¬ 
ened and she called the nurse to come quickly. 

“ ‘Please raise the window so that I can see 
him better,’ she said. 

“When the nurse did so the spring air came 
in, warm and balmy. Every day after that for 
a long time Father Robin came back to say, 
‘Cheer up!’ to the little princess. And every 
day the window was raised and the warm 
spring air came in. At length the princess was 
cured and, in time, grew to be a young lady 
and married the prince and lived happily af- 


158 


OUTDOORLAND 


terwards. But she never forgot the robin fam¬ 
ily because the robins were the first ones to 
cheer her up in the new land. The robins were 
so pleased over what they had done that they 
continue to go about saying ‘Cheer up!’ to all 
they meet.” 

“Oh, that is such a sweet, story, Uncle Tom,” 
Mabel said. “I wonder if I could tame a 
robin?” 

“Look, Uncle Tom! What kind of a bird 
is that tiny fellow away out on that limb? If 
it is a sparrow it is the tiniest one I ever saw,” 
William cried, pointing up into the tree. 

“Where, Bill?” 

“Don’t you see? It is away out on the end 
of the limb.” 

“Oh, that is Mrs. Jenny Wren. The wrens 
are very nice song birds. There are about 
fifty kinds of wrens in America. If you wish 
them to build in your bird house you must 
make the opening no larger than a twenty-five 
cent piece. This opening will be quite large 
enough for the wrens and it is so small that 
no other bird can enter and run them out. Did 
you ever hear the old story of how the wren 


Song Birds and Secrets 159 

became king of the birds? You didn't? Well, 
it happened this way: 

“The birds decided to have a king. The 
ostrich insisted that they choose the largest 
and strongest of their number but the birds 
said, ‘No. We will choose for our king the bird 
that can fly the highest and stay up the 
longest.' 

“On the day of the contest all kinds and sizes 
of birds assembled. Many entered the contest 
but one by one they were compelled to drop 
out until only the turkey buzzard and the 
eagle were left. At last the turkey buzzard's 
ears were frozen and he had to come down. 
The eagle soared around for a while as if to 
say he could stay up much longer if he 
wished and then came floating down to receive 
the crown. Just as the birds were about to 
give it to him the wren stepped off the top of 
his head and said, T should be crowned king 
of the birds because no matter how high the 
eagle went, I went higher!' 

“ ‘But I took you up,' the eagle protested as 
soon as he recovered from his surprise. 

“ ‘You had nothing to do with it. You did not 
know I was there,' the wren replied. 


160 


OUTDOORLAND 


“ ‘We will have another trial,’ the eagle said. 

“ ‘No,’ replied the wren. ‘Nothing was said 
about two trials.’ 

“And they have been arguing about it ever 
since. The lawyers are for the wren but the 
soldiers are for the eagle,” Uncle Tom said, 
smiling in amusement. 

“Oh, there’s a cardinal, Uncle Tom!” Wil¬ 
liam cried as he and Mabel had finished laugh¬ 
ing heartily over the little wren outwitting the 
big eagle. 

“The cardinal is a wonder,” Uncle Tom 
said. “He is beautiful and his notes float like 
scarlet streamers. He does not migrate as 
other birds do but will sometimes stay the 
whole winter through in a cold climate. And 
death continually strikes at him. His brilliant 
coat makes him a shining mark for the cat, 
the hawk, the owl and for man. No wonder he 
is shy. His beauty and his song should mark 
him for love but. they only mark him for death. 
Probably it is this that makes his song so 
thoughtful and so plaintive.” 

“What is migrate?” Mabel asked. 

“Our word migrate comes from an old Latin 
word which means to transfer. That is just 


Song Birds and Secrets 161 

what it means here. The birds transfer them¬ 
selves from one place to another as the sea¬ 
sons change. They usually go to a warmer 
climate when cold weather approaches but 
there are birds which like the cold weather. 
When it grows warm where they are, they go 
farther north. Some birds that live in the veiy 
hot countries migrate as the seasons there 
change from wet to dry or from dry to wet. 
Among these birds is the most beautiful of all 
birds, the Bird of Paradise. 

“Some birds come back to the place from 
which they migrated at the same time each 
year. Others are influenced by weather con¬ 
ditions. There are birds which possess such 
power of wing that they can travel over wide 
seas, without resting, at the rate of between 
fifty and one hundred and fifty miles an hour. 

“It would take a very large book to tell just 
a few facts about, all the many different kinds 
of birds. There are many birds which sing 
beautifully; there are birds which help make 
the earth cleaner; there are birds of beautiful 
plumage; there are birds so large that they can 
carry a small lamb in their talons; there are 
birds no larger than a man’s thumb. There 


162 


OUTDOORLAND 


are good birds and bad birds, industrious birds 
and lazy birds. 

“The robins are gentle and kindly but the 
blue jays are cruel robbers. They quarrel con¬ 
stantly; they take food away from other birds; 
they rob other birds of their nests; and it is 
said that they will kill little birds, split their 
backs open and take out their hearts and eat 
them while the poor victim is still alive. The 
English sparrows are happy, industrious little 
fellows. On the other hand, the cow-bird will 
lay her eggs in another bird’s nest and let that 
other bird raise her children for her. 

“Many of the birds are very useful. We did 
not always know this, however. In times past 
the farmers thought that the birds only lived 
to eat the crops. Farmers, therefore, tried to 
kill all of them that they could. Men even 
made laws which said that the farmers would 
have to pay a fine if they did not kill a certain 
number of birds each year. The friends of the 
birds said they did not believe the birds were 
all so bad so they set themselves to watch and 
learn if the birds really did nothing but de¬ 
stroy the crops. 

“Much to the surprise of every one, the 


Song Birds and Secrets 


163 


watchers learned that the birds were the 
farmers’ helpers. In truth, the birds are na¬ 
ture’s housekeepers. Some sweep the air for 
insects, flying with their mouths open and tak¬ 
ing their refreshment on the wing. Some sit 
on lookout perches where they snap up all the 
bugs that fly past them there. There are birds 
which take care of the ends of the twigs where 
the insects deposit their eggs. There are 
others which clean the undersides of the leaves. 
Some birds are the general cleaners of the fol¬ 
iage. Woodpeckers take care of the bark. 
They eat the borers which destroy so many 
trees. Other birds are great destroyers of the 
weed crop. The English sparrow is a great 
weed eater.” 

“But, Uncle Tom, you don’t like the English 
sparrow, do you? Our teacher says he is a 
great pest. He chases all the other birds away 
and he builds his nest right in the doorways of 
our houses,” Mabel said. 

“Well, he has his points,” Uncle Tom replied. 
“He is a brave and valiant fellow. He has a 
happy disposition. No weather is too severe 
for him. He will hop about the city streets, 
chirping cheerfully even in zero weather. 


164 


OUTDOORLAND 


When night comes he will find a warm spot 
somewhere under an electric light or around 
some warm flue until the sun comes out next 
morning when he will begin his hopping and 
his chirping again. 

“The English sparrow was brought over 
from Europe to rid some trees in Washington 
of certain insects. He did that but, his num¬ 
bers have increased so much that there are 
those who wish he had never been brought 
over. I do not believe, however, that he is such 
an enemy to other birds. I have seen him and 
the robin bathing, friendly enough, in the same 
pool.” 

“It seems there is good and bad in every¬ 
thing, even among the birds, doesn’t it, Uncle 
Tom?” asked William. 

“That is true. The crow is an outlaw among 
other birds. The farmer hates him also be¬ 
cause he eats so much of the crops. Authorities 
say that one crow will eat thirteen bushels of 
corn in one season and that the crows will even 
dig the corn out of the ground in some places 
just as fast as it is planted. Of course, it is 
well known that a crow will eat many insects 


Song Birds and Secrets 165 

but as long as he eats so much corn he cannot 
expect the farmer to be his friend. 

“Some people say that the crow can talk to 
his fellow crows. Such persons say that when 
a flock of crows are feeding in a field that they 
have a sentinel placed to tell them when there 
is Ganger. When this sentinel gives the warn¬ 
ing, all the crows fly up and away at once. 
They do rise all together in flight. Watch them 
and see if this is not true. 

“Speaking of the crow reminds me of the old 
Greek story of why the crow is black. Apollo 
was the god of poetry and of music as well as 
the leader of the nine Muses who inspired all 
noble and heroic song. He was also the god 
of light. To him belonged the sun although he 
did not drive it himself but gave that task to 
another. 

“Apollo was the most beautiful and attractive 
of all the gods but in spite of his charms he 
was most unfortunate in love. He fell in love 
with Daphne who was so frightened by his 
tempestuous wooing that her father, a river 
god, turned her into a laurel tree so that she 
might escape from the sun god. Apollo then 
loved Cassandra, princess of Troy, who was as 


166 


OUTDOORLAND 


false as she was beautiful. She pretended to 
love Apollo in order to obtain from him the 
gift of prophecy. But as soon as he gave the 
gift to her, she turned from him and gave her 
love to another. Apollo was very angry at her. 
He would have taken the gift of prophecy 
from her if he could have done so. But, as 
he could not, he put it into the minds of the 
people not to believe her prophecies and so 
made the gift worthless. 

“At last Apollo loved and married Larissa, 
a nymph, and was very happy as he believed 
that she loved him tenderly. But one day the 
crow, his favorite bird, flew to him and told 
him that Larissa loved another. Apollo was so 
angry with Larissa that he killed her. As soon 
as he had done so he repented and wanted to 
restore her to life again. This being impos¬ 
sible, he avenged himself on the crow by turn¬ 
ing it from pure white to intense black and by 
forbidding it ever to fly among other birds.” 

“Do you know that I do believe that animals 
can talk to each other? I have seen birds fly 
in groups up from the ground into the air all 
at once. Why would they do that unless some 


Song Birds and Secrets 167 

one had signalled to them?” William asked. 
“It certainly seems marvelous, doesn’t it?” 

“Yes, it does. We really know very little 
about birds and animals after all. Don’t you 
suppose it is about time for breakfast? I 
told your mother to let us stay out here until 
we were ready to come in but I shouldn’t won¬ 
der if the biscuits are not cold by now,” Uncle 
Tom said, rising from the ground. 

“Haven’t we had a lovely time this morn¬ 
ing?” Mabel asked. “I’m going to watch the 
birds from now on and see how many new ones 
I can learn to recognize.” 

“That will be fine,” Uncle Tom said. “Sup¬ 
pose we go down to the mail box and see what 
the postman has left for us. I saw him stop 
at the box a moment ago.” 

“May be there will be a letter from Aunt Mary 
telling us about little Mary. I just love little 
Mary, Uncle Tom. We have the best times 
playing dolls together but I haven’t seen her 
in a long time. I wish she would come and see 
me this summer,” said Mabel. 

“Well, that’s funny,” Uncle Tom said, look¬ 
ing at Mabel with a queer little smile that she 


168 OUTDOORLAND 

did not understand at all. “Maybe she will 
come.” 

Strangely enough there was a letter from 
Aunt Mary. 

“Let us carry it to the house and have 
Mother read it aloud to us,” Uncle Tom said. 

But Mother did not read it aloud. She only 
glanced over it hurriedly and said, “You may 
tell them now, Tom. She is coming.” 

“Hurrah!” cried Uncle Tom. “Now for the 
big surprise!” 

And that was the first time that day that 
any one had thought of the big secret. 

“Your mother and I have something to tell 
you,” Uncle Tom began. “One day last week 
when I went into town I received a telegram 
from a man in St. Louis who owns a boys’ 
camp in Colorado. He wanted me to take 
charge of the nature classes there beginning 
in July. My first thought was not to take the 
position. I had promised myself this summer 
here with you. My second thought was what, a 
fine opportunity it would be for Bill to go out 
there. When I came home I talked to your 
mother about it without mentioning it to you. 
We decided that it would be too bad to take 


Song Birds and Secrets 169 

Bill away this summer and leave you, Mabel, 
here all alone. So we planned to ask Aunt 
Mary to let little Mary come down from De¬ 
troit and spend the summer with you. If she 
consented, I planned to take the position at the 
boys’ camp. If she refused I would not take it. I 
then went up to St. Louis to see Mr. Masters, the 
owner of the camp. I told him that I probably 
would take the position but that I could not 
promise for a few days. You see, we had not 
heard from Aunt Mary. Now your mother says 
that Aunt Mary has consented for little Mary 
to come.” 

“Yes, she says Mary will start tomorrow. 
Today is the twenty-sixth. We will have to 
hurry to get things ready for you, Tom, if you 
and William leave on the first,” Mother said 
as she spread some doughnuts which she had 
been cooking out to cool. 

William and Mabel stood looking at each 
other as if they did not know what to think. 

“Do you mean to say, Uncle Tom, that I am 
going to leave here on the first and go with 
you out to Colorado to a boy’s camp?” Wil¬ 
liam asked as if he could not believe what he 
Tiad heard. 


170 


OUTDOORLAND 


“Just that and —” Uncle Tom began but be¬ 
fore he could finish Mabel said, jumping up and 
down and clapping her hands, “And oh, Mother, 
if little Mary starts tomorrow when will she get 
here?” 

“I think Mary said on the twenty-ninth,” 
Mother said, putting on her glasses and looking 
at the letter again. “Yes, she will arrive on the 
twenty-ninth.” 

“What will we do at camp, Uncle Tom?” Wil¬ 
liam asked, still dazed by the wonderful news. 

“Oh, there will be hiking, swimming, horse¬ 
back riding, stunts of all kinds, camp cooking, 
nature class, exploring—everything that a boy 
will like. You’ll enjoy it and look back to it as 
one of the happiest times in your whole life, I 
am sure. And Mabel will have such a good time 
playing with Mary that she will not miss us at 
all,” said Uncle Tom, putting his arm around 
her. 

“Oh, Uncle Tom, I shall miss you dreadfully 
but I shall be so glad to see little Mary that I 
just won’t know what to do,” Mabel said. 

There was so much to do to get William and 
Uncle Tom ready to go on the trip and there was 
so much for Mabel to plan to do when Mary 


Song Birds and Secrets 171 

should arrive that it was late afternoon before 
the bustle and confusion of the day had settled 
into the quiet of twilight. Then Father, Mother, 
Uncle Tom, William and Mabel came together 
for a breathing spell on the front veranda. 

“Fve enjoyed this month immensely,” Uncle 
Tom said as he flicked off the ashes from his 
cigar. 

“Well, we’ve certainly enjoyed it also, Tom,” 
Father said. “A farm gets mighty monotonous 
sometimes. It seems to be work, work all the 
time and no play at all. But when some one 
comes along and makes us see God and His work 
in all things, as you have done here, it gives 
beauty to our labor.” 

“And we’ve learned so much, Uncle Tom. Fll 
never see the wild flowers, the trees, the little 
squirrels, the birds, without thinking of the 
stories you have told us. I told you the other 
day that I wanted to be a naturalist and I mean 
it. I really do,” said William. 

Mother, sitting quietly in the rocking chair 
with her hands folded said softly to herself, 
“Thank God for everything.” 

But Mabel was only thinking of the good times 


172 


OUTDOORLAND 


she and Mary would have playing dolls all 
through the long summer days. 

The End 































































































